


The Dying Dragon and her Darling

by Fyllene



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Slow Burn, game of thrones characters in hogwarts setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-06-13 13:12:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15365415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyllene/pseuds/Fyllene
Summary: Jon Snow returns to Hogwarts for his sixth year where N.E.W.T.s preparation, Quidditch and other problems lay in waiting. For Jon, this includes not only hiding his talent of being a natural Animagus, but also a certain silver-haired transfer student who made his life rather miserable the year before.ASOIAF/Game of Thrones characters in the Hogwarts universe.





	1. Jon I

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes before starting the first chapter:  
> \- This work follows the Hogwarts setting and universe, but doesn't have the characters of the Harry Potter series. This work is vaguely set post-Harry Potter, so references to characters or events can be found.  
> \- Both Game of Thrones and ASOIAF references will appear since the two have sort of welded into one fandom for me.  
> \- Jon is not a Targaryen in this work, but rather the bastard of Ned Stark and an unknown woman.  
> \- Chapters will follow Jon's and Dany's point of view, hopefully switching each chapter.  
> \- In this work, Jon is a bastard in a society that doesn't truly despise bastards and he isn't forced to join the Night's Watch because of it, so his characterization may be a bit 'lighter' than he is in Game of Thrones/ASOIAF. He did grow up, however, in a household where Catelyn would have hated him for being a reminder of Ned's infidelity, so it's still a core issue for him.  
> \- Jon was born a natural Animagus, meaning he didn't have to learn the skill but already gained control over it when he as young. He's hiding this talent, because natural born Animagi are terribly rare, and invite a lot of unwanted attention if it were to become public knowledge.  
> \- Gods I hope I don't leave this work unfinished.  
> Enjoy!

Jon glanced at the clock in the hall with impatience. It was September 1st, and his siblings were all running late. Unlike Jon, they weren’t super thrilled to leave their home after a summer of nostalgic fun with the entire family. Sansa was seriously stalling, fussing over which clothes and books to bring. Robb was his calm and relaxed self, and he was quick to settle Sansa’s frantic complaining, which could be heard all through the house. Arya was very much running through the corridors, switching between jittery nerves and extreme excitement over her first year at Hogwarts. Catelyn was overseeing Rickon and Bran’s breakfast in the kitchen, and Jon preferred waiting in the grand hallway with his suitcase already packed where her cold stare could not follow.

Jon let his eyes wander around the, in his opinion, rather grand hallway. It had been in his father’s family for many years, and nearly every corner of the mansion was permeated with history. The walls of the entryway were a black slate, and the floor was a weathered but beautiful grey marble. Catelyn’s touch mainly showed in the soft green curtains and decorations, and the pictures of the Stark family on the walls lining the staircase.

Absentmindedly, Jon reached for his wand in his back pocket. He found the pliable cypress wood of his wand with his fingers and explored its familiar ridges for a long moment.

Arya raced past Jon, her newly obtained wand clutched tightly in her hand and her wolfdog Nymeria bouncing after her. She did an impressive turn on the hallway’s marble floor, and skidded back his way until she was right in front of him.

“Jon! Is it true that the Sorting Hat will judge and sort you based on your most private thoughts?” she said with an excited smile.

“I think it bases your House more on your characteristics and the choices you make,” Jon responded with a chuckle, gently ruffling up his little sister’s hair. _Well, half-sister…_ He grimaced slightly at the intrusive thought, but quickly composed his face.

“Did you know the Sorting Hat used to belong to Godric Gryffindor himself?! Do think it’s biased because of it?” Arya asked eagerly.

“I don’t think the Hogwarts Four would allow it to be biased, Arya. They would have ensured it to be impartial, surely.”

“I hope I’m a Gryffindor like you,” Arya said wishfully. “Although I wouldn’t mind Hufflepuff either since Robb is one.”

“Whatever House you’re sorted in, you’ll belong,” Jon said with a grin. He watched as his own wolfdog, Ghost, came padding down the hallway, silently but swiftly. The canine gently pressed himself against his leg, and Jon quickly reassured him by gently scratching him behind one of his ears. Nymeria suddenly pounced on her brother, sprinted up the stairs and Ghost raced after her.

Jon sighed. He’d really miss his white companion. Sometimes, the wolfdog felt like his only ally in the Stark household, especially when Catelyn was on one of her lady-of-the-house streaks, where she would command him to do any chore within sight. If there weren’t any chores to be done, she would create them, although she would never admit it outright. His father, Ned, didn't see it or pretended not to see it, and Jon fervently hoped it wasn't the latter.

He and his father were on good terms. Ned had always treated him like a son, but Catelyn’s coldness towards him had made it clear to Jon from a young age that he was inherently different than the rest of his siblings. He wasn’t completely oblivious to her plight; he realized very well that he was a permanent reminder of his father’s affair and disloyalty to her. _Not like that warrants a lifetime of frigidity._

There was another reason why Jon was inherently different from his siblings. He did not join the Stark family until he was six years old and his mother died. His mother had been a Muggle, but a kind and brave woman who did not shrink away from her son when she discovered the existence of magic. Neither did she shrink away when her son started to show more inexplainable transformations.

Ned had told him that he first turned when he was about a year old, and that his mother had called him up in a frenzy, because instead of a bouncing baby boy, there was a _wolf pup_ in the crib where her son had been moments ago. His father had rushed over to Wylla’s humble residence, saw the wolf pup for himself, and watched with wide eyes as the pup transformed back into his one-year old son, perfectly alright and laughing loudly at seeing Ned’s familiar face.

The transformations had been rather impulsive until he was about three years old, when he learned some semblance of self-control due to his mother and father’s diligence and the promise of rewards. The transformation itself seemed to age as he did, as the wolf pup grew older and larger as Jon also grew up. By the time that he was five, Jon knew that he must keep his other side hidden to all but his mother and father, though there were quite a few sightings around their house of what neighbours dubbed a rather shaggy-looking dog.

Just after he turned six years old, Jon had been picked up by his father, who announced rather solemnly that his mother had perished in a car crash. Jon didn’t truly understand it at the time, and for a while he kept asking for Wylla, but Catelyn’s response to her name taught him quickly that he mustn’t mention her in Catelyn’s presence.

Ned brought him to his study once, just after he had arrived at the Stark manor, and pleaded with Jon to keep his wolf side hidden from his siblings and step-mother. He mentioned at the time that it would only set Jon apart from his siblings even more, and because his gift was a rare one, it might invite unwanted attention. At the tender age of six Jon hadn’t understood that either, but he did understand the fear in his father’s face, so he kept from shifting anyway.

His secret had remained hidden to everyone in the Stark manor, except to little Arya. The urge to shift every once in a while grew with each full moon, and Ned allowed Jon to wander the gardens in his wolf form whenever the moon was bright and round in the inky sky, on the condition that he would change back out of the manor’s line of sight. He had forgotten once, and when he shifted back, Arya had been watching from her window. He’d been terribly afraid that she would think him a freak and betray his secret, but instead she had been fascinated and rather disappointed when she learned she did not have the same natural gift.

Jon let his eyes wander around the hallway and the many pictures that hung framed on the walls lining the grand staircase. Most were of his siblings in varying stages of childhood. Sansa was featured more often because of her photogenic nature, and Arya was featured less because she actively dodged any camera in her path. There were some pictures of him, mostly group shots where he was hidden somewhere in the back. It reflected the way things had always been; his siblings front and centre, and Jon concealed in the back. Not that he’d have it any other way. Any desire for the spotlight wasn’t in his character, and hadn’t been fostered due to Catelyn’s upbringing featuring him as the runt of the family.

Jon was roused from his brooding when Arya’s slim hand firmly grabbed his. He looked down and saw her frowning as she gazed at the pictures.

“They’re stupid, huh?”

“What’s stupid?” he asked.

“The pictures,” she said simply.

“They show the family, they’re not stupid,” Jon retorted.

“They do show the family, but they’re all wrong. Everyone is smiling. We don’t smile all the time. Father spends more time brooding and looking sour than smiling. Sansa pouts more than she smiles, and Bran and Rickon haven’t figured out yet that there’s more than just smiling and pooping and eating. Only Robb smiles as much as he does on the photos.”

Jon chuckled. “Bran is already nine, and Rickon is five. They’re not babies.”

Arya continued like he hadn’t said anything. “And there’s no pictures of us together. Just the two of us.”

Jon felt an ache in his heart at her words. Arya resembled him more than any of her siblings, and she had always gravitated towards him and he to her. He quickly composed his grimace. “Well, you know what,” he said and squeezed her slender hand. “We’ll make sure to take some pictures together at Hogwarts this year.”

“Mother won’t like it,” Arya said with a slightly wicked grin.

“And she doesn’t have to know.” Jon smirked and hugged his little sister tightly, swinging her around. He quickly released her before Catelyn would find them, and ushered her up the stairs. “Go see what’s holding up Sansa, okay? We can’t miss the train on your first day.”

He watched as Arya raced upstairs. Nymeria found her halfway up the landing and chased after her, while Ghost trotted down the stairs and pressed himself against his thigh again. Jon crouched down next to him and took the wolfdog’s maw in his hands, looking down deep into those red eyes.

“You be good while I’m gone, okay? You take care of your brothers and sisters, and I’ll do the same at Hogwarts.”

Ghost looked at him quietly, unmoving and unblinking, with those eerie red eyes. Jon felt the wolfdog heavily lean into his hands without as much as a whine, as if sensing their upcoming separation.

_You might just be wiser than they give you credit for, my friend._

Ghost would always join Jon on his nightly escapades to the garden when the moon stood high in the sky, and although their communication was rather rudimentary, Jon felt like no other creature understood as well as Ghost. 

A loud honk came from outside and Jon tore his eyes from his snowy companion to glance through the window.

“The car is here!” he called loudly. Sansa came barrelling down the stairs, her trunk sliding gracefully behind her thanks to an enchantment she had put on it before the summer. Sansa’s wolfdog Lady followed her just as gracefully and sat down obediently beside Sansa’s feet when she came to a stop. She glanced at Jon, but otherwise did not respond to him. Robb followed down the stairs next, dragging both his own and Arya’s trunk. Robb grinned widely when he saw Jon, put the trunks down and clapped his brother cheerily on the back.

“Ready for another year of academic misery and fruitful education?” he asked.

“I’m just ready for a change of scenery,” Jon said quietly.

Robb nodded in understanding, grimacing slightly. “I can imagine.” His expression immediately lightened. “But it’s going to be a fantastic year. I can’t wait to see everyone again.”

“And by everyone you mean Margaery,” Jon said with a grin.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while.”

“You saw her last week.”

“Only for the weekend,” Robb chuckled. “I just.. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have her as my girl.”

Jon gazed at his brother with slight amusement. Robb had been over the moon when he and Margaery had gotten together last year, and it seemed his mood extended even beyond the ‘honeymoon’ stage. He felt a mournful stab of envy which he suppressed as soon as it surfaced. Guilt washed over him. Robb was his brother, and although they had been competitive ever since they were little, there was absolutely no reason to be envious of him.

 _It’s not his fault the world seems to favour him_.

Robb’s lovestruck expression caused a memory featuring a red-headed girl to appear before his mind’s eye, which Jon immediately pushed to the back of his mind. He’d see her again this year at Hogwarts, and he wasn’t quite ready to face that inevitability yet. His relationship with Ygritte had been stormy and intense and it had been over before he knew what was truly happening. Jon was still thoroughly confused by the whole affair; on the one hand he was relieved that he was no longer scrutinized for every one of his characteristics, as Ygritte had loved to call him out on anything she didn’t agree with. On the other hand, he missed her companionship and the way she augmented seemingly everything with her fierce intensity.

Jon watched as Robb opened his trunk and checked one last time if he had packed everything. Robb’s luck in love wasn’t the only thing he had going for him. As his brother retrieved the silver pin with a small P engraved on it, Jon was reminded of Robb’s position of prefect at Hogwarts. He’d been so last year, and was doing quite a marvellous job at it, acting fairly towards peer and enemy alike.

 _Not that Robb has any enemies,_ Jon mused. _Except maybe that Baratheon brat, but no surprise there. That boy would insult a tree stump for standing in his way._

Arya came running from the kitchen, followed by Catelyn, Bran and little Rickon. Catelyn’s gaze ran over her children, halting by each one with a smile, but she ignored Jon completely. He clenched his teeth and turned away, burying his hands into Ghost’s fur. Catelyn kissed Robb on both cheeks, hugged Sansa tightly and fussed over Arya’s wild hair. She skipped Jon, and he didn’t mind. Her ignoring him was just part of an old pattern established ages ago, and he managed as long as she stuck to it. He watched as she turned to Robb again, quietly encouraging him to do his best and stay out of trouble. Her voice was as gentle and kind as the words she spoke, and once more, Jon had to suppress a stab of envy.

A hand gently squeezed his shoulder, and he turned to face his father. Ned gently ushered him to the side for a private moment.

“Good luck at school this year, Jon,” he said quietly.

“Thank you, father,” Jon replied just as softly. He could practically feel Catelyn’s eyes boring into this back.

“I want you to do your best, okay? You’re going into your N.E.W.T.s now and things will be tough, but you have the brain and capabilities to deal with it.”

“I feel like you should be telling Robb this, father,” Jon said with a wry smile. “He’s the prefect and Quidditch captain of the family, after all.”

Ned’s expression remained stern. “If you think that I only put stock in ranks, I have raised you wrong, son.”

“I know you don’t,” Jon said quickly.

“Then don’t act like that is all that matters to me. You are smart and skilled, but most of all you are _good_. You –“ Ned cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “You remind me of your mother in that sense.”

Jon’s eyes widened. His father hardly ever mentioned his mother, least of all her qualities. Except for her name, Wylla Snow, he knew very little about her. The memories that he still had of her were faded and fragmented, and although he owned a picture of her that he kept upstairs stowed away in his belongings, it was an old picture.

“I’d regret it if you let the – the circumstances of your birth get in the way of what makes you so like her.”

“Father, you are _good_ too,” Jon said softly. “I suppose I got it from you, too.”

Ned chuckled and pulled him into a hug. Jon waited a moment before tightly wrapping his arms around his father.

“She would have been proud of you, Jon. I’m proud of you,” Ned said softly as he broke the hug. He clapped Jon on the shoulder and for a long moment, Jon stared into his father’s dark grey eyes so like his own.

“Stay safe. Keep it hidden,” Ned murmured, and gazed at Jon until he nodded. He then moved away to say goodbye to the rest of his children, leaving Jon to stand to the side like he’d seen a ghost. 

After everyone finished their goodbyes, Ned herded his children into the car, kissed Catelyn on the cheek and took the front seat. Jon watched as Catelyn waved almost mournfully as they sped away, little Rickon and Bran waving as well.

They arrived at King’s Cross Station with time to spare, and the closer they got to platform 9 ¾ , the more excited Arya became. Jon kept a close eye on her as she ran from the car, returned with a baggage trolley and singlehandedly tried to haul all of their trunks from the car.

The moment they ran through the rather solid looking wall to platform 9 ¾, Jon caught his breath as he saw the Hogwarts Express. It was the gateway to the castle that had felt more like home than the Stark manor ever would. His stomach was a nervous mess of jitters as they walked towards the carriages, recognizing fellow Gryffindors and other friendly faces the further they got.

Theon Greyjoy, a 7th year Hufflepuff, was quick to find them. He clapped Robb on the shoulder and punched Jon’s shoulder, then greeted Ned and the other Starks just as warmly. Theon would often spend the summer with the Stark household, because his own family situation was complicated to say the least.

The next familiar face was exceptionally pretty, Jon had to admit it. Margaery Tyrell nearly knocked Robb over as she flung her arms around his neck, her brown curls dancing as she kissed Robb with fervour. Arya made a puking noise, while Sansa quickly ran to meet her friend Jeyne Pool. Not wanting to continue watching the tongue-fest that was going on between his brother and Margaery, Jon observed the rest of the platform, and his eyes settled on a head of pale, silver-gold hair.

The nervous jitters in his stomach seemed to intensify a thousand fold and he quickly diverted his gaze. He let his eyes glide along the sleek exterior of the Hogwarts Express, observed the bustling crowd of students and their families, but his gaze was inevitably pulled back towards that pale head of hair once more. Jon reached for his wand in his back pocket, the smooth cypress would doing very little to settle his unease, but he drew as much comfort from it as he could.

“Who’s she?” Arya asked, startling Jon as she quietly moved beside him.

“No one,” Jon blurted too quickly, and Arya stared up at him with raised eyebrows.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Jon sighed. _She is way too observant for her age._ “That is Daenerys Targaryen. She’s a sixth year Gryffindor as well.”

“Targaryen? Didn’t she transfer from Durmstrang Institute?” Arya asked.

“She did, yes. Fifth year was her first year here at Hogwarts,” Jon said quietly.

“And?”

“And she’s very talented,” Jon admitted.

Arya gazed up at him with slightly annoyed eyes. “You are a terrible gossip. Surely there’s some juicy details about her?”

“I don’t do gossip, little sis,” Jon said with a wry smile.

“I’ll find out about her from Sansa anyway,” Arya said cheerily.

“I’m sure you will.”

“Why don’t you go and say hi to her?”

Jon grimaced. “Me and Daenerys aren’t on terribly great terms. We’ve been at each other’s throat more times than I can count.”

“Why?”

Jon shrugged while keeping his gaze on those pale curls in a sea of black uniforms. “I’m not exactly sure. Maybe she decided I’d make a good practice dummy for her wicked tongue,” he said, his voice slightly bitter.

“Maybe a fresh start is all you two need,” Arya said with a shrug. She moved away to get her trunk on the train and Jon was left to observe the back of Daenerys Targaryen’s head alone. Somewhere, deep down, Jon hoped that he and Daenerys could have a fresh start. At the same time, he feared any sort of closeness between them purely because he didn’t know what it would entail.

_At least when she is yelling at me, I know what to expect. Fire and blood, if she’d really set her mind to it._

Someone called his name and Jon turned to find Robb and Margaery trailing off with their suitcases to find a compartment of their own. Somewhere in the distance sounded a shrill whistle that indicated everyone should be getting on the train.

Jon turned to his father for one last goodbye.

“Take care of your sisters, Jon,” Ned said, a low rumble in his voice. “And remember what I said.”

“I will,” Jon said simply, shook his father’s hand and pulled his trunk towards the train without a second glance.


	2. Daenerys I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys finds her friends in the Hogwarts Express, receives unexpected recognition and makes a rash promise.

Dany had to elbow her way through the corridor of the Hogwarts Express as excited first-years sped past her. She smiled at fellow Gryffindors and other friendly faces that she recognized, but her smile faded when she noticed the majority of the students she encountered watched her walk on with a mixture of curiosity and vague disgust.

_You’d think I wouldn’t be an oddity after a whole year,_ she thought grimly, but continued on down the train’s pathway, her fingers searching for her cedar wand in her sleeve just for the comfort of its touch.

Her mood improved drastically as she found Irri and Jhiqui in a compartment to her left. The two girls were both 6th year Hufflepuffs, and they had become fast friends from the moment she had arrived at Hogwarts. Irri was the first to give Dany a tight hug, and Jhiqui followed after.

“How was your summer, Daenerys?” Irri asked carefully, obviously aware of the sensitive nature of the topic.

“Not too shabby, really. I spend most of my time in Dorne with the Martells, who have been welcoming enough. It was kind of strange seeing Professor Martell in casual setting, though,” Dany said lightly, hoping fervently to avoid the real reason Irri spoke so carefully.

Her holiday with the Martells had truthfully been very pleasant, but Dany had hated the fact that her staying with them was really a necessity, instead of a luxury. She was used to living of the generosity of others, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. The Martells were the closest thing she had to family, besides Viserys, of course.

Normally she would spend the summer with her brother Viserys and her parents, somewhere in some luxury resort or private island, but things had drastically changed in the past few years. While in her fourth year at Durmstrang, Daenerys’ parents were killed as an act of revenge by a multitude of important families that dominated both Durmstrang and the countries in the vicinity. The Targaryens used to be amongst those ruling families, but the trouble started when Aerys Targaryen began to treat friend and foe alike. Rumour had it that in his madness, Aerys had ordered the deaths of those closest to him, but his allies and enemies would not stand for his erratic behaviour.

Aerys’ madness had been so great that his enemies had chosen to eradicate his entire bloodline in one fell swoop, killing his wife Rhaella, as well as their oldest son Rhaegar and his family in a terrible ambush. Rhaegar’s wife Elia and their children Rhaenys and Aegon also perished in the aftermath when Targaryen enemies stormed their lands and manors, seizing and burning them to the ground. Daenerys and Viserys managed to escape together to Britain, supported by the British Ministry of Magic.

Daenerys was still grieving for the death of nearly her entire family when she enrolled for her fifth year in Hogwarts, but things took a turn for the worse when Viserys, who had always been cruel and foolish, began to show symptoms of his father’s madness. Daenerys had been used to his taunts, threats and pinches, having experienced them from a very young age herself, but when he began to hit her, touch her and take her wand away so she couldn’t fight back, something in Daenerys snapped. She had ran away from him and their home at Dragonstone, an ancient keep that had always belonged to the Targaryens, and sought help from the Ministry to put him behind bars.

Her case against her brother, however, proved rather weak due to lack of evidence, and Viserys was only forced to spend a few months at Azkaban. Those few months, though, had proved to be enough to get her life back on the rails. She learned to bury her grief for her fallen family and her fear for her remaining brother deep in the pits of her mind. She pulled up a mask of confidence and pride, and kept up her grades not only to not be excluded by her peers, but also to keep her mind from wandering to all she had lost in the past few years.

_If I look back, I am lost._

It had been her mantra ever since she and Viserys had fled into the night, leaving their home to be devoured by flames as curses followed them into the darkness. It was her mantra still now that Viserys had become her enemy, and she clung to it as if her life depended on it. It was a lifeline in the dark nights where she cried herself to sleep, her insides knotting up with the pain over losing her entire family.

Though she was grateful for the Ministry officials that accompanied her nearly everywhere she went, she hated the fact that she needed them, for it labelled her a danger to other people as well. Ever since Viserys had been released from Azkaban, which had been shortly before the summer break, he had not made it a secret that he was itching to get his hands on her. He had sent her over a dozen letters from the Dragonstone keep. Their contents had been thoroughly checked for harmful substances and curses, but the Ministry officials couldn’t shield her from Viserys’ hateful words.

_You’ve stolen from me, sweet sister, and you will face the consequences of waking the dragon one way or another. You will think our mother and father’s demise was a kind one, compared to the one I will give you. Return what you stole, or be prepared to bear the pain of anyone that gets in my way to you._ The words echoed in her head. She’d read them so often she knew them by heart.

Dany suppressed a shiver, and it caused her to return her thoughts to the train compartment and her friends’ concerned faces.

“Did you see him?” Jhiqui asked quietly.

Dany shook her head. “He’s been at Dragonstone ever since he was released from Azkaban before summer break.”

Irri quickly changed the subject and practically dragged Dany into the compartment. “Come, come! You have to sit with us! Have you seen Missandei yet?”

“Yeah, she’s holding a compartment near the end of the train. And I would join you, but I’ve been summoned to the prefects’ carriage to await ‘further instructions’,” Dany snarked. She held up a neat parchment that had been delivered to her just before departing for King’s Cross Station.

“Oh, you’re already in trouble?” Jhiqui giggled.

“Not even I would manage that,” Dany said with a grin. “I’ll see you girls later.”

Dany nudged past a group of third-years and continued down the train’s corridor. Her progress was slow since everybody kept bustling about from compartment to compartment, throwing books, candy and other items from one to another. The trolley witch came down the aisle, selling a large assortment of drinks, snacks and candy, and Dany had to duck into a nearby compartment to let her pass.

“Daenerys,” someone grunted in greeting behind her, and when she whirled around, she saw that she’d made her way into what she immediately dubbed as “the Stark compartment”, although Sansa Stark seemed to be missing from the bunch. Robb sat in the left corner with Margaery on his lap and they were both smirking widely and properly flushed. To Robb’s left sat a young girl whom she figured was the newest Stark student to attend Hogwarts. Dany noticed how the girl shot a look towards Jon who was sitting in the other corner near the window, looking solemn and brooding.

“Snow,” Dany greeted back coldly. Jon gave her a short nod, those onyx eyes as mysterious and unfathomable as ever. She composed her face before greeting the others.

“Margaery, Robb, looking _close_ as ever,” she said with a grin. “I trust you had a good summer?”

“Splendid summer!” Margaery said before Robb could even open his mouth. “Robb spent a weekend at Highgarden with my family and he was a right hit, weren’t you?” She pressed a quick kiss to Robb’s temple, who smiled sheepishly at Daenerys.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Dany said pleasantly. She finally met the eyes of the small girl to her left, who had been unabashedly staring at her ever since she stepped inside the compartment. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Daenerys Targaryen,” she said lightly. She had expected that the girl would immediately flinch at the mention of her last name, but the girl kept her wide brown eyes on her without fear.

“Arya Stark,” the girl said with a grin.

“Ah, the newest Stark recruit,” Dany joked. “Welcome to Hogwarts. Any of the Houses got your preference?”

“I want to be in Gryffindor like you and Jon!” she said excitedly, and Dany grinned at Arya’s enthusiasm.

“Well, we can surely use you. We didn’t stand a chance for the House Cup last year with those two lovebirds earning points like champs for Slytherin and Hufflepuff.” Dany nodded towards Margaery and Robb.

“Yeah, but Gryffindor’s got you and Jon, right?” Arya asked.

“Yes, but Jon isn’t really smart enough to do much point-earning,” Dany said sweetly, masking any bitterness as best she could. She waged a glance at Jon, whose onyx eyes seemed even darker. He only shrugged, however, which only fuelled Dany’s bitterness.

_That boy doesn’t seem to care about anything, not even thinly veiled insults,_ she thought indignantly.

“Anyway, it was good to meet you, Arya. I hope to see you at Gryffindor’s table before the day is over,” she said kindly. She turned to Robb, who was gazing rather dreamily at Margaery’s face. “Robb, aren’t you supposed to be in the prefects’ carriage? I’m heading that way so – “

“Why are _you_ heading for the prefects’ carriage?” Jon interjected with his low, rumbling voice, and Dany frowned at him. She pulled the parchment roll from her robes and held it up.

“I’ve been asked to go there,” she stated simply, and Jon’s brow furrowed. “What’s it to you?”

“No reason,” he said a little too quickly, and Dany raised her eyebrows at him.

“Anyhow, Robb? You in?” Dany said, eyeing Robb who nodded, gently scooted Margaery off his lap and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“Be back soon, my lady,” he said with a grin, and Margaery giggled softly. Dany rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. They were disgustingly sweet, but there was something entirely endearing about their interactions. She dared one last glance at Jon Snow, whose eyes she immediately met. Seemingly embarrassed, he quickly gazed out of the window, and Dany turned around with a grin.

The corridor was still packed to the brim, so Dany put her elbows to use once more with Robb following close behind.

“He gets on your nerves, doesn’t he?” Robb asked over the noise of the train and the other students.

“Who?”

“Jon.”

“Oh,” Dany grunted. “I mean. I think ‘getting on my nerves’ is a bit of an overstatement.”

“You two automatically grimace when the other is within a hundred foot radius,” Robb said with a grin.

“We’re just not compatible, I guess,” Dany said with a shrug.

“Oh please. You two are more alike than you’d think.”

“I don’t see it,” Dany said, her voice colder than she had meant. She sighed and glanced over her shoulder apologetically. “Sorry. Jon just hasn’t been my favourite person since I transferred here.”

“I know you two like your arguments, sure, but Jon’s not a bad guy. Did he do something to get on your bad side?” Robb asked and Dany noticed how hard he tried to keep his tone casual.

“Just… something he said,” Dany said softly, lowering her head at the memory. She’d been called many things ever since she transferred to Hogwarts, both to her face and behind her back. ‘Orphan’ was a common one. There were the usual insults and allusions directed at her family’s incestuous history. Joffrey Baratheon had once called her a ‘dragon cunt’, for which she had hexed him rather fiercely. They were all insults she could handle, and for which she had no more tears to shed. But Jon Snow’s remark, which she had overheard by accident, had shaken her more than she thought possible, and had been the source of their hostile squabbling ever since.

She knocked on the prefects’ carriage door before Robb could ask any more questions, and they were quickly admitted by a prefect from Ravenclaw.

“Ah, Daenerys, Robb. Good of you two to finally join us. Couldn’t get enough of my little sister, Stark?” Loras Tyrell said with a smug grin. Robb took his seat with the other prefects, a slight flush creeping to his fair cheeks.

Dany suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him. Loras Tyrell was a 7th year Slytherin, rather good-looking and his ambitions had been momentarily sated when he had been picked Head Boy for this school year. _Certainly doesn’t hurt that his grandmother is Hogwarts’ Headmistress,_ Dany thought wryly, but she immediately pushed that thought to the back of her mind. Headmistress Olenna Tyrell had been nothing but kind to her, so she certainly didn’t deserve any cheeky remarks, even if they were only thoughts.

 “Oh, leave him alone, Tyrell. We don’t mention _your_ romantic escapades,” Dany said with a dry chuckle.

“And I’m glad of it,” Loras said. “Now, you must be wondering why you’re here, Daenerys, or have you figured it out already?”

“I’ll let you have the honour of informing me yourself.”

“Jeyne Westerling was supposed to be the sixth year prefect for Gryffindor this year, but her family has decided to keep her at home for whatever reason. Something about making sure she wasn’t with child or whatever. The open spot is yours, if you want it.”

Dany’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“Indeed so. Your O.W.L.s from last year certainly reflect your apabilities, and your conduct has been quite perfect, be it from a few… temperamental outbursts.” Loras’ eyes shone with amusement.

Daenerys groaned inwardly. She had had a few altercations with some of her less supportive schoolmates.

_I only set fire to Joffrey Baratheon once, or maybe twice._

“But I’ve only been here for a year.”

“Yet you have impressed the Headmistress enough to give you this chance,” Loras said. “So take it.”

“You got it,” Dany said breathlessly, then broke out in a wide smile.

“Of course, that does mean that you cannot set fire to anyone anymore, not even to the little Baratheon brat,” Loras said cheerily. Alyx Frey, the Head Girl for this school year, threw him a warning glare.

“That’ll be hard, but I’ll do my very best,” Dany said with a smirk.

“Welcome to the club then,” Loras said and chucked her the Prefect’s badge which she clasped tightly in her hand. There was an intense sense of pride swelling within her chest as Dany sat down with the other prefects. She’d been chosen from all other Gryffindor sixth-years, and she’d only been at Hogwarts for a year since she transferred from Durmstrang Institute. She had an complex history that she was sure would follow her everywhere, but _this_ was based on her current abilities and conduct. She hadn’t gone unnoticed. She was more than just the orphan from a fallen family with a dark past.

_I’ll make everyone proud of me,_ she thought with fierce determination. _I’ll show them I am worthy of the blood of old Valyria. I’ll prove that a Targaryen can be more than just mad._

The rest of the meeting went by in a blur as Loras and Alyx went over their duties for the year and the main rules that were to be abided. Alyx gave an in-depth account of what was expected of the prefects later on in the evening during and after the Start-of-Term Feast.

Finally, when the sky was colouring orange and red with the setting sun, the meeting was adjourned, and everybody was released to find their baggage and friends. The corridor seemed a little less bustling, and Dany walked back towards the end of the train with Robb close behind her.

When they got back to “the Stark Compartment”, Robb turned and grinned at Dany. “Congratulations, Daenerys. It’s good to have you on the team.”

Dany couldn’t help but smile. Robb was a true Hufflepuff, honest and loyal, and his approval meant more to her than she would have imagined. “Thank you Robb. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for your little sister if she ends up in Gryffindor.”

Robb chuckled. “I’m not worried about Arya. She’ll find her place in whichever House she is sorted. I’m actually more worried about Jon.” Robb looked through the compartment door where Jon sat staring out of the window.

Dany frowned, then grinned. “What, is he brooding even more than usual?”

To her surprise, Robb nodded sadly. “He is, actually. I don’t know. There is something different about him. It’s true that he’s never been the studious type and he’s always favoured the duelling club and Quidditch over the library, but he hardly passed his O.W.L.s last year. It’s as if he’s holding back deliberately.”

“I know he’s part of the duelling club, but he’s never tried out for Quidditch to my knowledge,” Dany observed.

“Yeah, he won’t give me a straight answer about that either. It’s his favourite thing to do when we are home in the summer, but he pretends not to care for Quidditch here at Hogwarts,” Robb said defeatedly.

“Maybe it’s not pretence. Maybe he doesn’t like the competition part of Quidditch,” Dany said with a shrug, but she couldn’t help but glance at the stoic boy at the end of the compartment.

“Are you kidding? We’ve always competed, for nearly everything. It’s only since last year that he’s gotten even more… detached, I guess.” Robb awkwardly scratched his head. “I know you two aren’t on the best of terms, but I’d appreciate it if you just kept an eye on him, if it’s not any trouble. I would do it myself, but I can’t be by his side all the time because of our House difference and my other responsibilities.”

“I mean… I can check up on him now and then if it sets your mind at ease,” Dany began hesitantly. “I can put some pressure on him now that I’m a prefect, but I’m not sure he’ll care much if it’s coming from me,” Dany said quietly.

“It might even be best coming from you,” Robb said with a tentative smile. “You keep him on his toes.”

“Please, he hardly hides his aversion when I am near,” Dany snarked.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s better than the total indifference to other people he seems to have adopted these days.”

“If I can motivate him by bugging him, I suppose I can give it a shot,” Dany grinned.

Robb nodded in thanks and stepped inside the compartment. Dany glanced at the solemn looking boy by the window and felt a grim determination bubbling up inside her.

_If he doesn't want to care, I'll make him care. I’ll show him he’s been wrong about me all this time. I’ll show him I have no madness within me._

She spent the remainder of the train ride with Missandei, Irri and Jhiqui, laughing about how their fun was over now that Daenerys was a prefect.

Once they had arrived in the castle and gathered in the Great Hall, Headmistress Tyrell rushed through the announcements, even skipping over some things she deemed unnecessary. The sorting ceremony commenced, and Dany clapped loudly when little Arya Stark was sorted into Gryffindor without hesitation from the Sorting Hat.

Dany searched the Gryffindor table and found the usually stern faced Jon Snow clapping and laughing in excitement as he welcomed his sister to his House table. The contrast was enormous; his smile brought a light to his eyes and his whole posture relaxed.

_For once, he doesn't look like he carries the world on his shoulders_. _Maybe all the two of us need is a fresh start, a chance to break the mould._

And right then and there, Dany decided that one way or another, whether he liked it or not, she would not rest until she’d gotten through to Jon Snow.


	3. Jon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Arya's behest, Jon attempts to fix things with Daenerys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the people who haven't recently read chapter 1: I've decided to make Jon an Animagus that was born with the skill, in order to take the focus off his status as a bastard. Since this wasn't part of my original plan, I've edited chapter 1 slightly to make it match this chapter, but for those that want to dive right into this chapter, this is the gist of what I've edited in chapter 1:  
> \- Jon was born a natural Animagus, causing him to take the shape of a wolf at will since the age of one. Wylla Snow raised him with Ned's support until she died in an accident, after which Jon came to live with the Starks.  
> \- Because natural Animagi are so rare and the fact that Jon takes the shape of a wolf, Ned feared that the stigma surrounding werewolves would also threaten Jon, so he pleaded with Jon to keep his gift hidden from all.  
> \- Arya, the little nosy welp that she is, found out.

On the first day of classes, Jon was practically the first to be down for breakfast in the Great Hall, and he was about to start his second round of eggs on toast when Arya sat down beside him. She stared at the enchanted ceiling for a long while, awed as clouds slowly passed by up ahead. Jon chuckled quietly when he saw that his little sister’s tie was crooked and her jumper backwards.

“Morning, little sis.”

“Morning,” Arya replied.

“How many tries did it take you to find the Great Hall?” he asked, amusement rumbling in his low voice.

“Only three. Granted, on my third try I followed a bunch of Hufflepuffs who seemed to know their way around,” Arya said unphased, still staring in fascination at the enchanted ceiling.

“You’re already a natural,” Jon chuckled.

“And I’m not the only natural here,” Arya said with a grin. “Did you get a chance yet to prowl the grounds on four legs?”

“As much as I want to, it’s a little bit tricky leaving the castle unnoticed with the sun setting so late. Besides, the next full moon is still a couple of weeks away,” Jon replied gruffly.

“I don’t understand it,” Arya complained. “You’re an Animagus, not a werewolf. Why do you still abide by the moon?”

“I don’t have to abide by the moon, it’s more like it enhances the experience. But we’re not completely sure I am an Animagus, Arya,” Jon said while lowering his voice, uncomfortable discussing this at the busy table. “Animagi work to gain the ability to change into a particular animal, but they aren’t _born_ with it. Maybe I am a distant cousin of the werewolf,” Jon said reluctantly.

“Which is why you and father agreed to keep it a secret, which makes sense, but surely Robb should know? You two have always been inseparable,” Arya mused as she munched on a piece of bacon.

“It would only attract more attention, which is exactly the opposite of why I’m keeping it secret in the first place.”

Arya shook her head and Jon gazed into her eyes that he swore were wiser than their years. “It’s eating at him, Jon. He knows something is off, but he can’t figure out what it is. You should tell him.”

And you should probably fix your uniform before classes start, or you’ll be deducted points before the morning is over,” Jon said gruffly in order to change the subject.

“I can’t lose points if Gryffindor doesn’t have any points yet,” Arya snarked.

Before Jon could say anything, a familiar face with very light hair sat down with them. “And that’s where I come in,” Daenerys said with a grin.

“Morning, Daenerys,” Arya said cheerily, downing her pumpkin juice in one go. “You’re going to add fake sand to the point hourglass?”

“No, I was just going to do well in class, but that is actually not a bad idea,” Daenerys laughed.

“Don’t encourage her,” Jon muttered.

“Oh please, Snow. It’s not like I invited her to my illegal gang or something,” Daenerys replied lightly.

“What are you doing here?” Jon asked, not bothering to hide the suspicion in his voice.

“What, can’t a girl eat breakfast with her fellow Gryffindors in peace?” Daenerys replied sweetly.

She reached over for a piece of toast, slightly leaning into Jon. Jon’s stomach did a little flip, and he scooted over a bit on reflex. Daenerys caught his expression, and perhaps his grimace was too intense, because her gaze darkened.

“I didn’t mean –“ he tried quickly, but Dany interrupted him with a hiss.

“No, don’t hide your revulsion, Snow. It’s not like I’m used to anything else coming from you.” She strode away, her pale curls dancing against her back, and promptly sat herself down at the Hufflepuff table next to Missandei.

Jon groaned and hid his face in his hands for a moment. When he looked up again, he found Arya looking at him with candid amusement in her brown eyes.

“You like her,” she said cheerily.

“I do not,” Jon growled back.

“You like her or you’re allergic to her, maybe even both, judging by the face you pulled when she got close,” Arya leaned in close with a wide grin. “Maybe your wolf-y side smelled ticks on her or something.”

“Could you keep it down, please? I do not like her, not like that,” Jon said, lowering his voice “There’s just… She confuses me, that’s all.”

“What’s confusing about her?”

“Well, when it comes to me, she only has two settings; she’s either ready to set me on fire or she ignores me with the frigidity of an iceberg,” Jon said, but he felt like his words hardly described the concept that was Daenerys Targaryen.

“So she’s a little high-strung. That just sounds like your typical Gryffindor,” Arya shrugged.

“Surely we Gryffindors are a little more refined than just that,” Jon said with a dry chuckle.

“Doesn’t explain why you two are so hostile towards each other.”

“I don’t really know how that happened either. Ever since she transferred here from Durmstrang last year we’ve been toe to toe and head to head. We argue, we insult each other, and then she stomps off as per usual. It’s our thing.” Jon pulled a hand through his hair, sneaking a peek at the blonde over at the Hufflepuff table. “And now she’s suddenly seeking me out as if we’ve always been best friends? That doesn’t really add up.”

Arya shrugged. “Looked to me like she was just trying to be nice. New year, new start and all that. She did make prefect, so maybe she’s just trying to socialize for her job.”

“Daenerys isn’t a prefect,” Jon scoffed. “Jeyne Westerling is Gryffindor’s sixth year prefect.”

“Then why did she wear a silver prefect’s badge? One exactly like Robb’s? Were you looking at her eyes rather than her chest?” Arya grinned.

“You have a foul mouth for a first-year,” Jon muttered. “It doesn’t matter if she is a prefect or not. I can’t remember the last time Daenerys sought me out deliberately, least of all was civil to me.”

“You’re telling me she has always been cross with you?”

Jon thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, we got along pretty well the first few weeks she was here.”

“So obviously you did something to upset her,” Arya said simply.

“I wouldn’t,” Jon said briskly.

“Obviously not intentionally.” Arya rolled her eyes while taking a large bite from her toast. “And obviously it wasn’t something that really, really hurt her, otherwise she would never seek contact now. You two are just stuck in old patterns.”

Jon looked at Daenerys’ pale blond head as she talked animatedly with Missandei at the Hufflepuff table. They certainly had settled into a pattern in their fifth year; it had started out with her being in a foul mood which further advances to arguments that got more and more heated as the year progressed. She always had a remark about his incompetence ready for him, and even if he beat her at a subject, she’d always find another way of frustrating him to the bone. On top of that, she had a way of finding out any problems he was facing, and though she didn’t offer unwanted advice, just her knowing made him feel suspicious and on edge.

Jon felt a stab of doubt. But what if she had tried to make a new start with him just now? _Have I just ruined a well-intended attempt at a truce?_

“Maybe I’ll clear things up with Daenerys,” Jon muttered, and Arya smiled as she shovelled her runny eggs into her mouth.

“You f-oo phat,” Arya answered with her mouth full. Once she swallowed she grinned widely. “I know what you should do! You should tell her about you being a you-know-what.”

Jon frowned at his little sister and quickly glanced around if anyone had overheard. “I thought we just agreed that me telling people is for the best.”

“You told me.”

“After you hinted that you knew about it as subtly as an Erumpent,” Jon retorted. “And as if telling Daenerys would dissolve all the bad blood between us,” Jon said doubtfully.

“It might provide a start. She’ll respect you more knowing you are a _natural_ Animagus! Surely girls love that sort of thing!” Arya smirked.

“I’m trying to get her to stop yelling at me, I’m not in it to seduce her, Arya,” Jon said sharply, his cheeks suddenly feeling rather warm. He quickly rose from the Gryffindor table. He was going to find the person distributing the class schedules, but it seemed that person was already marching towards him and her eyes seemed to spit fire.

“Here,” Daenerys said bluntly and handed him his schedule. “Looks like we got a double Care of Magical Creatures this morning.”

“Thank you,” Jon managed, and he fumbled for something more to say, but she was already striding away again, her pale curls dancing against her back. For a moment he considered going after her, but then he remembered how she had set Joffrey Baratheon’s robe on fire when he had dared to come up behind her. He folded his schedule and put it into his robe, resigning to just grabbing his books from Gryffindor tower and heading for the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

As he walked the grounds and the Forbidden Forest’s edge came closer and closer, Jon felt a growing desire to shift and explore that dark, forbidden place until none of its secrets remained. He steeled himself and resisted the urge, but conceded that he’d find some clear night to explore the grounds to his heart’s content.

 _It’s a full moon in two weeks. Maybe then,_ he thought, and the wolf within him settled down.

When he arrived at the Forest’s edge, Daenerys was somehow already there, though he hadn’t seen  her on the way or in Gryffindor tower, and he was fairly sure she didn’t have her books with her at breakfast.

Still, she was there, and it seemed her mood had not much improved by the way she was actively ignoring him. He went to stand beside her, his stomach convulsing slightly with unexplainable nerves.

The Care of Magical Creatures professor, Varamyr Sixskins, came marching from the Forbidden Forest and guided the group of sixth-years to a cleared area where large stone basins stood with the tops open.

Professor Sixskins didn’t waste much time with introductions and got straight to work. Jon looked into the stone basin in front of him and recoiled slightly at the sight of hundreds of tiny grey snakes slithering and winding over one another. Their eyes glowed red like rubies, reminding Jon of Ghost’s eerily similar eyes.

After his introduction for what to expect in their sixth-year, Professor Sixskins clapped his hands. “Everybody pair up, put on your dragonskin gloves. We’re going to be feeding these young Ashwinders as well as sexing them; boys go in the left basin, girls in the right. Be very careful with them, because they will grow very hot if they get stressed.”

When everybody seemed rather reluctant to stick their hands into the basin of wriggling serpents, professor Sixskins stroked his long white beard and grumbled. “Come on, have at it! Miss Targaryen, Mr. Snow, why don’t you show your classmates how it’s done?”

Daenerys was quick to step forward, and Jon followed her reluctantly to the edge of the basin. Daenerys stuck her hand into the basin of wriggling snakes without hesitation, pulled it back out and let a tiny Ashwinder gently circle through her fingers. She looked up at Jon and smiled widely.

“Time to show off that Gryffindor bravery, Snow. I dare you,” she said lowly.

With a gulp, Jon put his hand the basin and let a small Ashwinder climb up his gloves.

Professor Sixskins nodded with approval and herded the other sixth-years to the basins.

“Did you know that Ashwinders can grow so hot they can almost melt their attacker’s flesh from their bones?” Daenerys asked sweetly.

“I didn’t, no,” Jon replied quietly. “Look, I think we need to talk – “

“Why would we talk when we’ve got a basin full of dangerous fiery serpents to sex and feed?” Daenerys retorted in a mock sweet voice.

“I just want to know why you came up to me and Arya this morning,” Jon said, his frustration growing. He presented the Ashwinder in his hand with a cricket, and it lunged at it hungrily, swallowing it whole. His gaze was pulled down to the silver badge on her robe. “And since when are you a prefect?”

“I’ve been a prefect since yesterday’s train ride, and for your information, I don’t owe you any answers since you’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t want anything to do with me,” Daenerys hissed. “I could tell by your physical flinch when I came near you.”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” Jon said softly. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“Wow! A whole sentence and you haven’t even once doubted my abilities or intentions. A new record,” Daenerys mocked as she fed her Ashwinder another cricket.

“I don’t want bad blood between us if you don’t want it either,” Jon said through gritted teeth.

“Well, you know, I tried to be civil with you, but no one’s patience is endless,” Daenerys scoffed.

“It’s the first day of the year, seems like your pool of patience is pretty shallow,” Jon spat back.

“At least I _tried_ to make a fresh start!” Daenerys hissed. “You don’t seem to care about anything except your own sulking!”

“I care about a lot of stuff. It’s _you_ who doesn’t seem to have any other settings besides frigid and fiery pit of hell,” Jon shot back. He glanced at Daenerys and thought he saw hurt in her eyes, and sudden regret flooded over him.

_Why does she get under my skin so much?_

“Everything going alright here?” Professor Sixskins asked suddenly, and Jon saw Daenerys stiffen.

“Jon and I were just discussing the best diet for Ashwinders, professor,” she lied blatantly, her voice remarkably steady.

“Very good. I wouldn’t want any other matters besides the lesson material to occupy your minds,” Sixskins added with an edge to his voice.

Jon and Daenerys continued in silence, feeding Ashwinder after Ashwinder, then sexing them by the pattern on the underside of their belly and putting them in their new basin. Halfway through the class, Daenerys huffed in frustration as her gloves kept sliding off her hands, so she took them off altogether. When she stuck her hand back into basin with the coiling serpents, Jon wanted to shout a warning, but he was cut off as she easily held the tiny Ashwinder in between her fingers. She smiled lightly as the serpent contently wound through her fingers, and Jon watched in awe how that smile softened her features and brought light to her violet eyes. Then she glanced up at him, found his gaze and her expression immediately darkened, and he dropped his eyes away from her.

The rest of the lesson passed in silence, and by the end professor Sixskins was rather cheerful with two basins of male and female Ashwinders. Daenerys strode off as soon as he dismissed the class, and Jon had trouble overtaking her.

“Daenerys, please –“

“You really ought to make up your mind about me, Jon Snow,” she huffed in annoyance, setting a firm pace as she climbed back up the path towards the castle.

“I’m trying to do just that, but you’re hardly giving me a chance,” Jon growled.

She suddenly stopped in her tracks, and Jon almost ran into her. She whirled around, her eyes fierce and angry. “I don’t think you deserve a chance after the way you’ve treated me last year.”

“Surely you mean ‘how we treated _each other’_? You haven’t exactly been a princess to me either,” Jon retorted.

“Oh, that is rich, coming from you,” she said with a scoff.  

“What are you talking about?” Jon said bewildered.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Daenerys said shrilly. “But shame on me for thinking this year could be different, right? Shame on me for doing your brother a favour!”

“What does Robb have to do with this?” Jon asked.

“He is worried about you, okay? He thinks you might be holding back academically for whatever reason, and he asked me to keep an eye on you because there’s apparently something about me that ‘keeps you on your toes’.”

“Robb doesn’t have to worry. I’m doing fine,” Jon said quietly.

“You can tell him that yourself,” Daenerys replied coldly, turned around and stormed up the hill towards the castle.

Jon watched her go with frustration burrowing into his gut. So Robb had set her up to seek contact with him.

 _Why would he worry, though? I_ am _doing fine,_ Jon thought in determination, but Arya’s words about Robb suspecting something seemed to echo through his head. _If I tell Robb he’ll never look at me the same way._

A tiny voice in the back of Jon’s head told him that Robb had plenty of reason to worry. Jon’s O.W.L.s weren’t as grand as he had liked them to be. Last year had been rather confusing with Ygritte and all. She’d been a distraction to say the least. Everything with Ygritte had been new and exciting, and she certainly hadn’t encouraged his academic side.

But that was over now. If Robb was going to dig any deeper, there was a considerable chance he’d find out about Jon being a natural Animagus. _Which means he’ll also know that I’ve been hiding it from him for as long as we’ve been brothers,_ Jon thought wryly.

 _But why would Robb send Daenerys of all people to check up on me?_ _He_ knows _we don’t get on well._

Jon sighed as he tried to get a grip on his swirling thoughts and bewildered feelings, and started the long track up the hill back to the castle, which looked almost ominous against the cloudy sky.


	4. Daenerys II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys fesses up the reason why she keeps fighting with Jon, and finds a new focus by chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for the lovely comments. They really help me with plotholes and just keeping the writing going in general! Please enjoy!

Daenerys fumed for the rest of the day after that disastrous Care of Magical Creatures class. Judging by the reactions around her, she was very near to having steam come out of her ears. She _hated_ Jon Snow, because once more, they were reduced to petty bickering children while they were supposed to be responsible near-adults. She _hated_ Hogwarts and its stupid stone corridors, because as she angrily strode through the halls, the echoes she produced only soured her mood even further. But most of all, she _hated_ herself for even having the smallest bit of hope that finally she could finally spend a year without disaster striking her down.

_How dare he? I was just trying to start over with a clean slate._

As she moved through the ancient halls of Hogwarts, people let her pass without question, even actively dodged her after she elbowed a group of Slytherins out of her way. The many portraits of famous witches and wizards that hung in the corridors whispered incessantly as she passed by, which, again, only fuelled her rage.

Despite her anger, Daenerys did her best to keep herself composed during the remainder of the week. She was a prefect, after all, and she wasn’t about to throw that hard-earned position away by throwing a tantrum. It was lucky then, that it wasn’t that hard to ignore Jon Snow for the rest of the week. He was usually brooding in some corner of the Gryffindor common room, so Daenerys didn’t really see him, and if she did, she quickly dodged him by taking a shortcut through a hidden passage or the long way around.

_I should hex him to Oblivion. Give my father a run for his money for ‘Maddest Targaryen’,_ she thought sourly, but she managed to stay her hand and even keep a fairly composed face whenever Jon was near.

Later that week, after potions class with the Hufflepuffs, Robb tried to approach Dany and she reluctantly allowed him to drag her into a dead-end of the dungeons. Crossing her arms, Dany looked at Robb with a frown.

“So, Jon wasn’t too happy with you checking up on him, eh?” Robb said, pulling a hand through his auburn hair awkwardly.

“I think that’s putting it lightly,” Daenerys said through gritted teeth. “I guess he just likes fighting me more than starting over.”

“Are you sure you made your intentions to reconcile clear? Jon is a bit thick-headed sometimes.”

“I was trying to be nice to him and he physically recoiled from me. I think that says enough.” Daenerys tightened her hands into fists.

_So what if Jon Snow doesn’t like me. There’s dozens of guys that would die for the chance of being my friend._

“I’ll talk to him, okay? I’m sure he just faltered in your presence.” Robb grinned. “Certainly wouldn’t be the first time he blundered in the presence of a pretty girl.”

A flush crept up Dany’s cheeks, but she kept her frown. “He doesn’t like me and I don’t like him. Maybe that’s just the way things are supposed to be.”

“How did that even happen? I remember you two instantly clicked when you first got to Hogwarts.”

Dany’s scowl deepened. “It doesn’t matter. If Jon doesn’t want our help that’s fine, let him screw up his N.E.W.T.s for all I care,” Dany spat, her words harsher than she had meant. She closed her eyes for a moment, then consciously softened her tone. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded if Jon and I got along better,” Dany said quietly. “Squabbling with him used to be fun, but the prospect of another year of fighting only exhausts me. I’m sorry, Robb.”

“Thanks for trying anyway,” Robb said with a nod, and Daenerys left him behind in the dungeons.

Daenerys walked towards the main staircase and sighed, her fuming anger seemingly having died down to a mournful little flame. Her conversation with Robb had made her realize that she really had hoped that she and Jon could start over. Their arguments that had once been entertaining and challenging seemed to had lost their edge over the summer, and Jon’s words had hurt her feelings more than she’d like to admit.

_Surely I can be more than just furious fire - more than the madness that haunts my family. I can be gentle and kind, when I want to,_ she thought stubbornly.

Dany found Margaery and Missandei in the library and the opportunity to spew brought Dany’s frustration up again. She quickly grabbed a random book from a shelf to make sure librarian Mordane wouldn’t kick her out over nothing and slammed it down on the table where Margaery and Missandei had taken their seats.

“Looks like you have something on your chest,” Margaery said with a smirk.

Dany flipped open her book to a random page and glared at her friends. “I am so over anyone with any Stark blood in them,” she huffed and glanced at Margaery. “Your boyfriend wants me to make nice with his silly half-brother. He’s afraid he’s holding something back.”

“Jon’s holding back what? A smile that might blind everyone?” Margaery scoffed.

“I like how Jon’s always so reserved. Makes him mysterious,” Missandei said lightly.

“It doesn’t make him mysterious, it makes him a pain in the ass. My ass specifically,” Dany said crudely. “I can’t believe I even said yes to Robb. What do I care if Snow is hiding something from his brother.”

“You look like you are about to spit fire, so I’m assuming you care a lot,” Margaery noted with a grin.

“I do not care about Jon Snow,” Dany hissed back, but Margaery seemed unconvinced.

“You cared about him when you just transferred here,” Missandei said innocently.

Dany felt her cheeks heat up and she tightened her hands into fists. “I mean, sure, we got along in the first few weeks.”

“Then what happened?” Margaery said as she turned the page of a rather heavy looking tome.

“Nothing.”

“Oh please. I remember you switched from laughing together over some inside joke only the two of you understood to basically seeing red whenever he was near. Something happened,” Margaery snarked.

“It’s just something he said,” Dany admitted reluctantly.

“Did he call you a dragon?” Margaery said cheekily.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Daenerys snapped. Margaery and Missandei shared a glance, then looked at Dany with raised eyebrows.

“He must have said something truly horrible to get you so fussed,” Margaery grinned.

“It might help clear things up if you tell us what he said, Daenerys,” Missandei added.

“I don’t want to clear things up, I just want him to stay away.” Daenerys frowned at her two friends.

“Yes, but can _you_ stay away from _him_?” Margaery said with a smirk.

Dany felt her cheeks grow even hotter and her scowl deepened. “I assure you, that will not be a problem.”

She dodged Missandei’s doe brown eyes, and she knew the girl looked straight through her words. “You know it will be a problem, Daenerys. You are not one to simply ‘let things go’. Now please, tell us what caused you and Jon to drift apart so that me might help.”

Dany maintained her defiance for a few moments longer, but Missandei’s pleading eyes melted her resistance away like snow before the sun. She buried her face in her hands with a groan. “Before I tell you, you need to know that I – well – I may have done some research on some of the mayor families before transferring from Durmstrang Institute.” She looked at Missandei and Margaery, who looked at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “I just wanted to know who it was that I’d spend the next year with, okay? This was also around the time I knew I was breaking bonds with Viserys, so I knew I was going to be alone. I just wanted to scope out possible allies and enemies and all that,” Dany pleaded.

“Go on, Dany,” Missandei encouraged.

“Do you know Varys? From the Department of Mysteries?” Dany asked, and Missandei and Margaery both nodded. “He helped me with Viserys’ conviction and he’s been an ally of my family for many years. He doesn’t just like magical mysteries, he also likes familial mysteries, so he was my main go-to for this information.”

“He told me about the Starks, and I found out about Jon and his position within the family… How he’d been made an outcast by Mrs. Stark,” Dany said softly. “And honestly, I was glad! Here were all these happy important families, and then there was Jon and the Starks. I figured he would know what it’s like to be an outsider.”

Daenerys dug her nails into her hands and gazed down at the book in front of her. “So when I arrived at Hogwarts and was sorted into Gryffindor, I immediately sought him out. He was my imaginary lifeline in a sea of unfamiliar and possibly hostile faces. I didn’t mean to put that burden on him, but we seemed to click, so I figured he didn’t mind my presence.”

The librarian Mordane threw a warning hiss at their table and all three of them cowered slightly as she walked by. Daenerys lowered her voice and looked at her friends. “Things were going great… I met you guys and got along well with others and the insults that people said behind my back didn’t sting as much knowing that I wasn’t alone.”

Dany’s voice took on a desperate edge, which she tried to mask to the best of her abilities. “But then Jon got involved with that Ygritte girl, and things really changed. We spend less and less time together, and although I regretted it, I knew I had you guys to count on, so I wasn’t terribly hurt by his shift in attention.” Dany lowered her head in shame. “But one day, I overheard them in the corridor. They were walking towards the Great Hall, and I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was heading the same way, and they suddenly stopped to talk so I hid in an alcove.”

Dany swallowed bitterly and grasped her hands together to keep from tearing pages out of the book in front of her.

Margaery and Missandei shared another quick glance. Margaery lightly clasped Dany’s arm and squeezed it in encouragement.

“I was going to go another way, but then I heard Ygritte say my name and I was – intrigued, I guess. So I stayed and listened. They were discussing my family’s history, from what I could gather. And Jon –“ Dany gulped.

_If I voice this now, there is no going back. No swallowing my words._

Daenerys cleared her throat. “Jon said that I would end up either mad or dead, just like the rest of the Targaryens.”

Margaery hissed slightly in disgust, and Missandei furrowed her brow in disbelief.

Daenerys gazed down at the book in front of her without reading any of the words. “I couldn’t believe _he_ of all people would say that. I couldn’t believe he thought I wasn’t more than just another link in the chain of insane Targaryens, while he himself has always struggled with his father’s mistake,” Dany said softly. “So I waited for them to move on, and then I realized that Jon Snow would always judge me for my family’s mistakes and history, so I vowed to stop all pretence that any of the friendship we had shared before was genuine.”

Dany shrugged in an effort to look uncaring. “And we’ve fought ever since.”

Margaery was fuming. “I can’t believe he said that to you! What a complete _bastard_ , pardon my choice of words.”

“He didn’t exactly say it _to_ me –“ Daenerys tried, but Missandei cut off her sentence.

“Did you ever talk to him about it?” Missandei interjected, looking rather doubtful.

Dany shook her head. “I figured all that needed to be said was said.”

“He may have had some prejudices that he changed his mind about by now,” Missandei suggested. “And I have to admit, it’s a little harsh of you to immediately turn on him without giving him the chance to explain.”

Daenerys frowned stubbornly. “He’d just deny what he said or come up with some farfetched excuse. He was my friend and I would have never said that about my friend.”

“Of course you wouldn’t, but since you were friends, don’t you think you at least owed him the chance to defend himself?” Missandei said softly. Daenerys gazed at her with stubborn disbelief, then glanced at Margaery for support.

Margaery smirked and shook her head. “Don’t look at me like that. You were right to be upset with him, but maybe you were a bit quick to set him on fire.”

“Fine! Maybe I could talked to him about it first, but I was just so angry with him, I just…” Daenerys made a crushing motion with both of her hands, tightly balling her fingers into fists. “I was just so angry that he thought I’d end up mad like my father.” Daenerys lowered her fists onto the book in front of her and gazed down in defeat. “Our fighting must have only proven to him that I have madness in me...” Dany muttered softly, then barked a dry laugh and dug her nails into the palm of her hands.

Missandei still seemed to notice, as she gently grasped Dany’s hands and squeezed lightly. “You are not mad, Daenerys. You will not end like your father, I know it,” she said softly.

Daenerys smiled weakly at her. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore. I don’t even know why I spend so much energy fighting someone that will only ever see me as an extension of my family. Perhaps it is time to simply forget it ever happened and stay out of his way.”

Margaery burst out in laughter. “That certainly doesn’t sound like the Daenerys Targaryen we know and love.” She leaned forward over the table, her brown eyes sparkling. “Listen, Daenerys. I know you want very little to do with your family’s past, but there is nothing wrong with wanting to live up to your family’s legacy. I know it may be obvious, since I’m a Slytherin, but I’ve made it my mission in life to uphold the Tyrell name and carry it to greater heights still! There is no shame in trying to keep the good your family has done alive and well!”

“You’re one to talk. Your grandmother is Hogwarts’ headmistress. Your brother is Head Boy. Your whole family is a beacon of light to the entire wizarding community,” Daenerys replied.

“And you should know that the bigger they are, the harder they fall,” Margaery said with a grim smile.

_She’s right. My family was amongst the most important ones in the wizarding world. Now look what’s left of us…_ Daenerys thought wryly, her throat suddenly parched.

“What I’m saying is: don’t forget the _good_ your family has done for the wizarding world,” Margaery said. “People often forget that wanting power isn’t inherently evil. Power can be misused, but it’s also the gateway to better things for more people. Your family tamed the dragons when they came for destruction all those centuries ago. They made excellent politicians, philanthropists and peacemakers and I don’t doubt your ancestors tried to do their best for the less fortunate. It’s only the fire that history seems to remember, but there is so much more.”

“Yes, besides fire there is also blood,” Daenerys said dryly.

_Fire and blood._ _The ancient words of my family and the legacy I hope to rival with a future of my own._

“What matters is that you do not inherit the sins of your family,” Missandei added quickly. “You took the first step when got Viserys convicted, and you will do more still. Besides, who cares what Jon Snow has to say about you.”

_But I do care._ The thought was sudden and intrusive and Dany hated it because she knew it to be true.

“You’re right,” she replied weakly.

“But,” Missandei said, and both Dany and Margaery groaned dramatically. “But I don’t think you’ll get over this easily without confronting Jon one way or another. The fire in your blood demands some sort of closure.”

Dany pondered over her words for a moment and buried her face in her hands once more. “I hate it when you are right,” she said softly.

“You could duel him,” Margaery suggested.

Daenerys scoffed and looked at her friend with raised eyebrows. “Are you kidding? Stoic Snow has one passion, and that’s duelling. I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Indeed you would not, but it might get you to spend some pent up energy,” Margaery shrugged. She locked eyes with Daenerys and smiled rather wickedly. “I would suggest other _activities_ to release some energy, but I’m not sure you want to do _that_ with Jon Snow.”

Daenerys wondered for a very brief moment what Jon Snow might look like without his school uniform. _Stop it,_ she reprimanded herself. _That will never be an option and I don’t want it to be._

“Don’t make me gag,” Dany said coldly. “I think having words with him will be enough. Once I’ve had my say, I’m sure I’ll be able to just move on.” She stood up from the table and closed the book in front of her with a loud thud. She glanced at the title and halted, gently tracing her fingers across the title: _From Egg to Inferno: a Dragon-Keeper's Guide_.

_What are the chances…?_ Dany wondered. _I mean, it probably won’t work, but it’s a start._

“I think, for now though, I’m just going to start on my… Care of Magical Creatures essay,” Dany muttered. Margaery and Missandei both glanced at the book on the table.

“I thought you were working on Ashwinders this period,” Missandei noted.

“It’s for extra credit,” Dany lied blatantly. “I’ll catch you later.”

_They may be the last Valyrian eggs in existence. I have to protect them, at all costs._ Daenerys thought about the locked trunk shoved under her bed up in the dormitory. Three dragon eggs rested inside, cold as if made of stone, but too precious to be allowed anywhere near Viserys at Dragonstone.

She grabbed the book and walked over to the librarian’s desk to get it checked out, staring intently at the cover featuring a small embroidered picture of a red dragon egg. She gently rang her thumb across it, feeling the threads and fibres, and somehow, she felt terribly calm.

_Maybe this is all I needed to get my mind off of stupid Jon Snow. A focus. A job with a clear purpose. A way to hatch century-old eggs without a surrogate dragon mum._ Daenerys gently ran her fingers along the book’s cover, back and forth across the word _Dragon_.

_The only part of my family’s legacy that I want. The only way that I can save my family’s name from tarnish and oblivion._

A shadow crept along her vision towards the library’s entrance and exit, but froze before it went through the doorway. Daenerys looked up and found Jon Snow staring at her with unfathomable eyes. They locked eyes for a brief, but seemingly enduring moment. Before she had the time to perfect a scowl, he had turned and disappeared into the corridor beyond.

_What are the chances… He’s in the library the moment I’m fessing up to Missandei and Margaery_. But what had that strange look in his eyes been? Shame? Or was it guilt?

A shiver of realization ran down her spine. _Was he eavesdropping? Did he hear everything?_ The thought alone sent shudders through her hands, but she quickly steeled herself. _So what if he had heard? It had been the truth, and I was planning to have words with him about it anyway. What does it matter if he heard now?_

But she knew it mattered. This wasn’t the closure she wanted from telling him. It wasn’t anything like it. There was no sense of relief like when you spill everything that’s been pressing down, no resolve from saying the words to the hated person in question. Only bitterness remained that the chance to tell Jon Snow in person the reason she hated him was gone. The one chance to see either guilt or shame or anger fill his eyes was now taken from her, just like everything in her life had been taken from her.

Daenerys eyed the hallway where Jon had disappeared and gripped the book in her arms even tighter. _He isn’t about to be that lucky,_ she thought with firm determination. _I will give him a piece of my mind, whether he has heard it before or not._


	5. Jon III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon shares some of his troubles with Robb and loses control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the longer wait! I'm trying to keep to posting on Fridays, but I'm afraid I'll need to take two weeks between chapters since school and work is starting up again.  
> Please enjoy!

Jon felt terribly torn over the next week. He kept shifting between wanting to talk to Daenerys and wanting to stay away from her as far as possible. It didn’t help that she seemed just as conflicted. One moment she was stalking towards him through the corridor with fire in her eyes, but at the last moment she would stop, tighten her tiny little fists and quickly cut a corner, only to repeat the whole ordeal in a different corridor of the castle.  

He’d overheard enough in the library to be thoroughly confused. There was anger and shame and guilt and frustration, and he pushed that swirl of feelings to the back of his mind as far as he could. He didn’t want to discover what lay beneath that whirlpool, and he certainly didn’t want to deal with any of it.  

 _I didn’t ask for Targaryen drama,_ he thought bitterly as he stalked towards Gryffindor tower. _Why should I feel guilty over something I said a year ago?_  

But a tiny voice in the back of his head noted that there was guilt hidden underneath his irritation and frustration with Daenerys.  

He considered confronting her and telling her that he wasn’t sorry and that maybe they should just avoid each other from that moment on, but every time the thought even crossed his mind, it would seem so ridiculous that he would immediately reject the idea. So, until he would get a grip on his thoughts and feelings, he was just going to avoid Daenerys and her fiery eyes, Jon decided.  

In order to do so, Jon threw himself into his studies, just to keep his mind off of everything. He worked ahead on his Charms, Potions and Care of Magical Creatures essays, labouring in the furthest corner of the library where he hoped even Daenerys wouldn’t find him. He practised his wand work for Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts until late at night in an empty classroom on the seventh floor.  

The change in his focus didn’t go unnoticed. Arya came to him with her questions regarding History of Magic, because she had a hard time sitting still and focussing during the class itself. Sansa came to him rather reluctantly to ask for help with the theory behind Hippogriff raising for her Care of Magical Creatures essay. Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and Head of Gryffindor House, Oberyn Martell, even nodded his appreciation for Jon’s change in attitude when he produced a perfect nonverbal _Protego_ charm, the shield so strong that Robb's _Flipendo_ jinx bounced back and struck him instead. 

By the end of the week, Jon had worked ahead more than he ever had, and his schedule for the weekend was fruity and empty. Since duelling club hadn’t started yet, his Saturday was frightfully empty, and Jon ended up wandering the southern corridor that overlooked the lake and the Quidditch field in the distance. A yellow-robed student carrying a broomstick made his way down the hill towards the Quidditch field, and his familiar red hair marked him to Jon as his brother.  

Jon’s initial instinct was to follow Robb and tell him everything he had overheard in the library in order to alleviate the guilt and frustration gnawing in his stomach. But if he told Robb, he’d have to admit to his own words condemning Daenerys to the madness that plagued her family, and he wasn’t quite ready to even acknowledge that to himself.   

 _Then again, if I spend my entire Saturday wandering the castle, I’ll be sure to bump into Daenerys herself._  

So, Jon quickly followed after his brother, musing that they didn’t have to breach the subject of Daenerys at all if he didn’t mention it.  

He caught up with Robb about halfway down the path towards the Quidditch field. Robb looked over his shoulder with a wide grin. “Hello brother! Come to try out for the Quidditch team at last? I’ll have you know that it’d be for the wrong House team.” 

“Don’t even think about it,” Jon muttered while catching his breath. “I just have a Saturday off, so I thought I might as well lend you a hand setting up the field for the try-outs.” 

“Fair enough,” Robb said with an appreciative nod.  

“You got high expectations for this year’s crop?” Jon asked while they walked down the path towards the Quidditch pitch.  

“I’m hopeful. I need to replace two chasers and a beater, but perhaps with a bit of luck we’ll be done before lunch.” 

“And here I thought you’d need me all day,” Jon joked and eyed Robb’s broom that he carried over his shoulder. It was a Dragonsweep, luxury edition, and Jon felt a stab of longing as he beheld the smooth mahogany wood and hazel twigs. He had a Dragonsweep of his own, courtesy of his father, but Jon hadn’t brought it to Hogwarts, both to keep it safe and to avoid any temptation to join Gryffindor’s Quidditch team.  

Robb seemed to be able to smell Jon’s wistfulness. “You know, I hear Gryffindor is still in need of a keeper. You’d make fine addition to their team, Jon.” 

“Not this again, Robb,” Jon sighed. 

“Why not?” 

“I have my reasons.” 

“Which you decline to share.” Robb’s tone was light and casual, but Jon thought for a moment that he detected a hint of hurt behind his airy words. 

“I just don’t want that kind of attention on me,” Jon said with a guilty shrug. It was the truth; he did avoid playing Quidditch at school because of the attention that came with it and he didn’t want the spotlight on him while he was trying to hide his wolfish side from everyone. “We can’t all live for the crowds of pretty girls cheering your name,” Jon quickly added with a mock scoff.  

“I’ve already got the prettiest girl to be my girlfriend, so I don’t even hear them,” Rob grinned.  

They reached the Quidditch pitch and navigated onto the field itself, the six rings and audience stands rising high above them. Robb procured the great chest that held the Bludgers, the Quaffle, and the Golden Snitch, even though the latter of those wouldn’t see any use today. After they retrieved the school brooms for the applicants that didn’t have a broom of their own, Jon and Robb settled into taking turns hitting one of the Bludgers as a warm-up.  

Robb smashed the Bludger quite a distance into the air and handed the bat to Jon, who took a step forward. “So, why are you really spending your free Saturday helping your brother with his Quidditch try-outs?” Robb asked, while both kept their eyes on the advancing ball.  

Jon frowned and kept his mouth shut, taking a moment to smash the Bludger back into the air. He glanced at Robb and saw his patient, curious gaze, and cracked. “I’m having girl trouble,” he admitted reluctantly.  

Robb nodded lightly. “Girls are a serious source of troubles, yes. A girl in particular?” 

Jon didn’t answer as he handed the bat back to his brother. 

“I’m guessing this particular girl has either silver or red hair,” Robb said with a grin, effortlessly smashing the advancing Bludger back into the air. 

“That’s an easy assumption since the only two girls that have ever given me trouble have those hair colours,” Jon snorted, taking the bat back again.  

“And you don’t deny they are giving you trouble still,” Robb replied. 

“I don’t deny it, no. I just look at you and Margaery and can’t help wondering how you do it.” Jon gritted his teeth as he smashed the Bludger towards the rings on the other side of the field, managing to launch it through the left one.  

Robb whistled lowly in appreciation as the Bludger went through the ring, then glanced at his brother once more. “Are you wondering how I’m handling being in a relationship?” 

Jon shook his head. “I’m wondering how you’re so close with a girl in general without her spewing hate at you every opportunity she gets.” 

“Well for one, Margaery’s tongue isn’t as wicked as Daenerys’, who I’m presuming you’re referring to,” Robb mused, tightening his grip on the bat again as the Bludger returned. He smashed the Bludger over his shoulder, and Jon had to duck to avoid getting hit in the face. “Not that I’m assuming you’ve experienced Dany’s tongue first-hand. Not that – you – I mean – never mind,” Robb added apologetically.  

“Let me remind you of the time that Slytherin first-year accidentally squashed Margaery’s owl when the post came in. She definitely showed then that she has a wicked tongue. I don’t think the poor lad ever recovered,” Jon retorted.  

“Very well, then let’s say I’m not doing anything to invoke her yelling,” Robb replied with a grin. “If anything, girls appreciate consideration. But don’t let them know you are treating them any different from others, or they’ll assume you’re being considerate out of pity or something.” 

“So, be considerate, but don’t let them know you are being considerate?” Jon scratched his head slightly. The Bludger came back, the air whistling as it hurled itself at Robb, while Jon had the bat. Jon readied himself to catch the ball mid-air, but Robb dove forward and wrestled the Bludger to the ground.  

“Unless - you defined the relationship – beforehand,” Robb managed to say as he struggled with the Bludger. He managed to keep the ball locked in his arms as he wrestled it towards the holding chest. He struggled with the leather straps, but succeeded in locking the violent Bludger away with a grunt. He looked up at Jon, out of breath, and continued: “If she knows you’re together - not letting them know - you are considerate of them - is a death wish.”  

“Honestly, that only makes things more complicated,” Jon said with an exasperated grunt. “When I was with Ygritte, she would have jinxed me if I treated her any different than you, for instance. She’d kick my ass if I showed any doubts about her own abilities to defend herself.” 

“It’s a tricky scale, yes,” Robb agreed with a nod. “There’s a very thin line between right and wrong according to girls and it gets only more complicated when it’s a girl you’re actually interested in.” 

“So how come you’re getting it right with Margaery?” Jon asked as he sat down next to Robb in the grass. 

“I don’t know, to be honest. I’m still kind of dazed she’s with me at all,” Robb said sincerely. 

Jon looked at his brother and nodded in understanding. “I remember being just as dazed when Ygritte expressed interest in me,” he said softly.  

“I think that’s just the thing. Girls are confusing and frustrating and sometimes even maddening, but somehow they enhance everything in the end, making it all worth the while,” Robb said with wonder in his voice.  

“Ygritte certainly did that, yes,” Jon reminisced with a smile. “She took on everything with such intensity. Nothing was ever boring when she was around.” Jon’s smile faded and he lowered his tone. “But there was also never time for a breath or a moment of reflection. I think we burnt out before I was able to find more fuel to keep the fire going.” 

“I liked you with Ygritte, I did,” Robb said as he glanced at Jon. “I just never shook the feeling that you kept trying to meet her standards where you shouldn’t have had to compensate.” 

Jon let out a dry chuckle. “I’m not sure they were her standards I was striving to meet. I think I just wanted to feel worthy of her. But I was pretending to be someone I’m not and once I realised it, I couldn’t go back to doing it.” 

“And I’m glad of it. You should never have to hide any part of you,” Robb said and smacked Jon on his shoulder.  

“I think I’ll go back to the castle. Good luck with try-outs, Robb.” Jon rose from the grass and started to walk towards the exit. Though he still didn’t really have a solution regarding Daenerys, he did feel better. Robb’s light-hearted way of talking was one of the reasons why he was so beloved by his peers and Jon felt both thankful and unworthy of his company.  

Jon turned from the Quidditch pitch and was about half-way up the hill to the castle when something caused him to halt and turn towards the dark trees of the Forbidden Forest. A light breeze swayed the tops of the ominous trees, but other than that there wasn’t anything unusual to be seen. Still, an unbidden desire to _hunt_ and _run_ and to simply _live_ came to him, overwhelming his senses and demanding to throw caution to the wind and to turn on the spot.  

 _I can’t. It’s not even night. Anyone could see,_ Jon thought in slight panic as he gazed about frantically. But something told him there were other wolves behind those dark trees; other wolves to _run_ with, to _hunt_ with, to _join_ in their quest to be one _together_.  

With a growl, Jon rushed towards the treeline, fighting to keep his human form a bit longer. He stumbled as he sprinted down the hill, scraping his knees bloody as he hit a patch of gravel but forced himself to keep going. When he got past the tree-line he fell down to his knees, groaning as the unsettling feeling of sprouting fur ran over every inch of his skin. While not inherently painful, the transformation rendered Jon utterly powerless for a few moments as his limbs rearranged themselves, his clothes gave way to fur and every fibre of his being shivered as it gave into the innate desire to have a body not so utterly _limited._   

When the shivers subsided, Jon stood motionless for a long moment, making sure the transformation was complete. Every colour was different as he observed his surroundings with a wolf’s eyes. Though the colour palette of his sight was more limited, smells were much more intricate, as well as sounds and the feeling of earth beneath his paws. He could smell the deer that had passed through here hours ago, as well as hear the soft peeping of an owl chick somewhere high in the trees.  

With that sudden immersion of overwhelming new senses, Jon fought to get a grip of himself. Every conscious thought came with an opposing desire that seemed to emanate from deep within his chest. Jon knew it to be the instinct that came with his wolf shape, but never before had it been so demanding.  

 _This isn’t right. I’ve_ always _been able to control the transformation. Why couldn’t I this time?_ Jon wondered. 

It doesn’t matter, his instincts told him. It doesn’t matter because now we can _run_ and _hunt_ and _howl_ and find the other wolves and be _one_ with them.  

 _I don’t want to run_. _There are more important things –_  

Those things can wait, the opposing instinct communicated. It’s been too long since we’ve felt the earth beneath our paws and the wind through the trees and _thrill_ of the chase. 

Each concept presented to Jon came accompanied with images and sensations, and for a moment he was overcome with smells around him, images of the swirling forest during a chase and the satisfying sensation of tasting blood after a long hunt.  

The torrent of images and sensations swept away any rational thoughts Jon was trying to conjure, and the wolf within him howled in victory as instincts overcame rationality. The desire to _chase_ and _hunt_ became his own and the last remnants of his identity as Jon Snow seemed to fall away to the back of his mind, still there but thoroughly muted.  

And so they ran, Jon and the wolf, ran until they found the other wolves, taking a moment to reacquaint with familiar muzzles and get to know new ones. The other wolves invited him to join their hunt and Jon ran with them deep into the Forbidden Forest. They _hunted_ and _chased_ and _howled together._ Every moment made them feel more alive than they had felt in a very long time, and without the silly human limitations they could both be truly _free_.  

From his faraway corner within their shared mind, Jon watched helplessly as the wolf within him released all their pent up energy, snapping playfully at the tails of the other wolves as they all ran together. The sense of belonging made the wolf jump with delight, and the _togetherness_ of the pack even flooded Jon’s senses and it tugged at his heart. He doubted he would ever find that sort of belonging within the Stark family, not if Catelyn had anything to say about it. So he drunk in the feeling as much as he could, momentarily content with relinquishing full control to his canine counterpart. 

Jon and the wolf ran together as the sun slinked behind the horizon, setting fire to the sky with magnificent colours. The moon rose at the same time and when the pack returned to their den site, Jon continued to run. As the night crawled forth, the unbidden need to _run_ was sated and Jon slowly felt his humanity and identity resurface. He tried to shift back, but the wolf in him dug its paws into the mental haze of their shared mind and growled, protesting the shift back to that _limited_ human body. And so Jon steered himself back towards the castle, hoping that the re-emergence from the Forest might grant him greater control over the wolf resisting him.  

Leaving the treeline behind him, he trotted up towards the castle, sticking to the shadows provided. Following the slope of the hill that led to the Owlery, Jon was about to pass by it, but a soft wailing noise coming from the Owlery drew his attention. Curious, Jon trotted silently towards the stairs that led to the door, and the wailing turned to sobs and whimpers.  

His curiosity turned to reluctance as he realized this wasn’t just some choked up owl hooting into the night, but someone grieving and since he was still momentarily stuck inside his wolf form, he didn’t think his company would do much good. 

Still, something drew him towards the open door and the soft flickering light of a lamp about to run out of fuel. Slowly, he padded up the stairs and peeked into the owlery. A thousand pairs of eyes gazed down at him, the owls blinking slowly and hooting softly as they observed this new intruder of their homestead. Jon could not see the distressed party from the doorway and peeked around the doorpost. Upon seeing silver hair and tear-streaked cheeks, he immediately staggered back and practically rolled down the stone stairs in surprise, whining slightly as the painful stone steps did a poor job breaking his fall.  

“Who’s there?” Daenerys called out, drying her cheeks quickly as she stormed out of the Owlery, muttering _Lumos Maxima_ under her breath as she drew her wand. 

Jon was nearly blinded from the sudden bright light and scrambled to all fours. He stared up at Daenerys, who was watching him in awe as she raised her lit wand high over her head. The wolf within him and whose form he still inhabited growled and snapped inside his mind, trying to run away from the light that could only mean danger, but Jon managed to keep control and remain where he stood. He couldn’t, however, silence the warning growl as he bared his teeth to the blinding light atop the stairs. 

Daenerys gasped, her eyes wide with fear and she nearly stumbled back into the Owlery, taking the blinding light atop her wand with her inside. Jon took the opportunity to make a run for it, growling to himself as he fought with the wolf inside him to regain full control.  

 _You have listened to me for the past sixteen years! You will listen to me now!_ Jon growled to himself and the thought was echoed by a ripping snarl coming from his canine mouth.  

We were only _protecting,_ came the opposing instinct.  

 _Daenerys isn’t a danger to us!_ Jon countered. 

But she is a _dragon,_ and we are without _pack_. Dragon feasts on the lone wolf, the wolf in their shared mind retorted, not so much forming words but communicating the message through images and feelings.  

 _We are_ not _alone. We have Father, and Arya and Robb. We have Sansa and Rickon and Bran. When we tell them what we are they will understand that we are not a danger,_ Jon tried.  

But _you_ think we are a danger, came the solemn reply.  

 _We are if you keep fighting me,_ Jon interjected. 

We are _one_. We are _pack_ , came the confused reply. We cannot fight you, for we _are_ you.  

Jon used the confusion in his canine counterpart to seize control as tightly as he could, made for a small brush down the hill and once he was past the treeline, forced every fibre in his being to shift back. A whine escaped his lips as the fur retreated into his skin, his limbs contorted back to human arms and legs, and his robes re-appeared from whatever void they had been in.  

He was left panting on his hands and knees, the wolf inside him whining as if severely beaten and retreated to a far corner of his mind. Struggling to catch his breath, Jon dug his fingers into the dry leaves and dirt, making the sensation a tether between his mind and his body while fear crept up his spine. 


	6. Daenerys III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys has her doubts, but resorts to fighting one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the comments and kudos and bookmarks! It warms my heart and inspires my fingers to type a little bit every day, so I might actually finish a fic for once.   
> Please enjoy!

Daenerys rubbed her sleepy eyes as she tried to concentrate on Professor Malleon’s lecture on the history of the Giant Wars. She’d hardly slept after last night’s adventure and it was breaking up her focus. She did a poor job suppressing a wide yawn and tilted her head to the side to hide her face behind her upturned book. When she finished the yawn, Daenerys found two solemn black eyes regarding her and her sleepiness dissolved instantly.

Jon quickly looked away and Daenerys looked at the side of his head with a frown. With a soft exasperated huff, she turned back towards Professor Malleon, who kept droning on about the Giants and their rather gross names. There was Bloodchuck the Grasper and Wringhand the Defiler and Skullcrush the Wise, although it was a mystery how a Giant with limited cognitive capabilities got that title.

Professor Malleon had been the History of Magic professor for about a century now. He used to be a Grand Maester within the Ministry of Magic and did extensive research on the genealogy of magical families, before returning to Hogwarts to teach History of Magic. At one point, he got so old that he died in his sleep, but simply rose in the morning as a ghost to continue teaching his class.

Daenerys usually found the History of Magic classes quite interesting because they taught a different perspective on history than she had learned at Durmstrang, but Professor Malleon spend half of last year covering the Giant Wars and he seemed to want to take another half year rehashing everything. It was enough to drive even the studious Ravenclaws to boredom and Daenerys found her thoughts drifting away from the subject at hand.

Knowing that trying to pay attention to Professor Malleon’s monotone voice was futile, Daenerys set her book upright and hid behind it, resting her head upon her crossed arms. She glanced at Jon Snow from the corner of her eye and found him staring listlessly into the distance. Was she imagining it or did he appear even paler than usual? She narrowed her eyes as she observed him more closely. His black curls were greasy and unkempt and the dark shadows under his eyes indicated a serious lack of sleep. As if he had felt her gaze, Jon met her eyes and for some reason Daenerys didn’t immediately scowl at him.

Jon seemed uncomfortable with the lack of a glare from her side so he looked away, but when she kept her eyes on him, he reluctantly met her gaze once more. He really was kind of cute once you looked past his infuriating tongue, Daenerys mused. Robb was known throughout the school as the handsome, popular Stark and Sansa seemed to grow into her looks as well, but there was something about Jon that they just didn’t have. Something mysterious and incomprehensible.

Daenerys broke through the haze of her sleepiness and buried her face in her arms, finally breaking away from those impenetrable dark eyes.

_I must truly be tired of fighting with him,_ Daenerys thought. Margaery and Missandei had said that she was incapable of forgetting slights against her, but maybe it was time to start trying. Was it really worth having one more confrontation with Jon, just to spew the thoughts of her heart at him? Was her dragon’s blood really so restless that it demanded justification?

She just wasn’t sure anymore. She kept her head buried in her arms until the class ended and everybody filtered through the small doorway. After a moment she peeked around to make sure she was the last student out. With a sigh, she gathered her books, parchment, ink and quill and quietly left the classroom, leaving Professor Malleon’s ghostly form to sink through the floor.

Daenerys was on her way to the dormitory for a quick nap during lunch, but Missandei caught up with her on the Grand Staircase.

“Hey!” Missandei said cheerfully, clutching her potions book tightly. “I didn’t see you during breakfast. Everything okay?”

Daenerys tried to nod, but a huge yawn interrupted her efforts. “It was a late night, so I tried to grab every minute of sleep I could this morning,” she muttered.

“Something keeping you up?” Missandei asked and Daenerys dropped her gaze.

“It’s been a while since Silver brought me the Daily Prophet, so when I couldn’t sleep I snuck off to the Owlery to check on her,” Daenerys said.

Missandei frowned slightly. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to be out of the castle after curfew? I mean, you are a prefect.”

“I know, but I wasn’t going to spend the entire night staring at the ceiling,” Daenerys replied. “Besides, Silver is a moody owl. I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“And did you find her?”

Daenerys nodded. “Turns out she was carrying a letter from Viserys written days ago.”

Missandei frowned in concern. “What did it say?”

“Oh, the usual,” Daenerys said sadly. “How I’ve betrayed him and our family, how he will make sure I remember that he’s the Targaryen heir and all that. He even had a few new threats that I hadn’t heard before.” She clenched her hands into fists and shook her head in defeat. “However, it does seem my dear brother has achieved a new level of cruelty. He wrote he burned the last remnants of our old life; the pictures we brought of our family, my mother’s jewels, even my father’s wand.”

Missandei gasped slightly and squeezed Daenerys’ shoulder with her hand. “I’m so sorry. Why would he – does he mean to draw you out?”

“I’m not sure,” Daenerys said with a sigh. “And it’s not really the loss of the memorabilia that truly upset me.” She leaned against the staircase’s railing, trying to avoid Missandei’s inquisitive eyes. “I think, somewhere, I still held hope for my brother. That maybe he’d find some sanity and prove to be more than just another mad Targaryen. But this…” Daenerys shook her head again. “He is lost to me. I think I knew it before, but this only proves it.”

“You don’t need him. You can choose your family, Daenerys,” Missandei offered gently.

“I know and I’m glad of it,” Daenerys said with a smile, quickly reaching out and squeezing Missandei’s arm. “It’s just confirmation that there is no coming back from the Targaryen curse.”

“I’ll say it again and again until you finally believe it. You will not go mad. I won’t let you,” Missandei said with determination and Daenerys couldn’t help but grin.

“Thank you, Missandei,” she said gratefully. “Viserys’ letter wasn’t even the strangest part of the night. I heard something outside and when I went to check, this enormous wolf –“ Daenerys cut off her own words when a third-year Hufflepuff nearly ran into her. The boy muttered a hasty apology before sprinting further up the staircase towards the Charms corridor. Daenerys gazed after the kid and saw that more and more students gathered in the hallway, some standing on their toes to see something happening further down the corridor.

Daenerys hastened towards a large group of students blocking the way and she was about to elbow her way through the crowd when they seemed to gasp in unison and stumbled back as one.

“ _Tarantallegra_!” a voice shrieked and apparently missed their target as a flash of blue light forced a young Ravenclaw student to desperately begin tapdancing. Daenerys begun shoving people aside to get to the source of the commotion. When she broke through the line of people, Daenerys stood stunned for a moment.

Joffrey Baratheon was flinging jinxes left and right, his face contorted in a grimace of concentration. On the other side of the corridor stood Jon Snow, his posture defensive but relaxed, dodging and shielding any of the jinxes Joffrey threw at him.

For a second, Daenerys was staring at Jon with admiration. He was completely in control, his face serious and focussed, sharply contrasting Joffrey’s grimace that grew more and more panicked. Sweat made Joffrey’s blonde hair stick to his forehead and his green eyes stood narrowed with uncontrolled rage.

The gathered crowd gasped and stumbled back when Joffrey launched a series of red curses at Jon, which he easily evaded and the curses exploded in a rain of fiery sparks when they hit the stone wall behind him. Jon advanced on Joffrey with gleaming eyes, his mouth a thin line of concentration and tightly controlled anger. Joffrey stumbled back, pointing his wand over his shoulder as he tried to gain some distance between him and Jon.

“ _Ducklifors!”_ Joffrey shrieked and the golden jinx soared past Jon’s head, turning the wall sconce behind him into a quacking duck that took off as soon as it realised its predicament. Jon kept up his advance, stalking towards the Baratheon boy with determination.

Daenerys suddenly remembered her status as a prefect and the rules she was supposed to represent and was about to step in between the two duellers when the crowd moved and swallowed her up again.

Jon aimed his wand at the blond boy and spoke clear and precise. “ _Langlock_!”

Joffrey halted his flight and stumbled, grabbing at his throat and making undefined hissing noises as his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Jon caught up with him in an instant and gave him a rough shove that sent Joffrey to the ground. Joffrey’s wand bounced from his hand and rolled a little distance away. The boy grunted and hissed, clawing at his throat as he tried to get his tongue to unstick from the roof of his mouth.

“I told you you’d regret messing with my family, Baratheon,” Jon said calmly, aimed his wand at Joffrey’s chest and demonstrated his grasp on nonverbal spellcasting once more as blue sparks emanated from the tip of Jon’s wand. Daenerys broke through the wall of the crowd and aimed her own wand.

“ _Protego_!” she hissed, throwing the spell in between Jon and Joffrey and the force of her charm made Jon stumble back a few paces. “Enough!” Daenerys roared as she stalked towards the perplexed duellers.

Jon blinked in surprise when she came closer and immediately lowered his wand. “Daenerys –“

“Save it, Snow. You know the rules, no duelling in the corridor,” Daenerys said with a tight voice as she was hyper-aware of all the curious eyes around them.

Joffrey stumbled to his feet and gazed furiously at Jon, trying to get comprehensible syllables out of his mouth. “I wes oly defeding muhself,” he managed, pointing indignantly at Jon. “’E sta’ted ‘t!”

Daenerys gazed from Joffrey to Jon with an exasperated expression. “Is this true? Did you initiate the fight?” she asked Jon with a sigh.

“He was picking on Arya,” Jon said simply. “He was about to put Exploding Powder Puffs down her robe.”

Daenerys gazed at Joffrey with an arched eyebrow. “Exploding Powder Puffs are forbidden, Baratheon. You should know better.” She aimed her wand at Joffrey’s mouth and muttered the counter-jinx so his tongue was finally free again.

Joffrey drooled a little as he regained proper use of his mouth, then pointed at Jon once more. “You have no right! My family will hear about this and you’ll regret ever laying a hand on me! I swear –“

“Be quiet before I jinx your tongue down your throat,” Daenerys interrupted coldly. She gazed at Jon. “You both know the rules and you both know the consequences. Fifteen points from Gryffindor for duelling in the corridor, Snow, and don’t let it happen again.”

Jon’s mouth fell open in surprise, then he immediately frowned and glared. Joffrey was ecstatic, a cocky smirk stretching over his face as he heard the verdict. The crowd around them seemed to have a mixed opinion on the matter, as both scoffs and agreeing murmurs erupted from the audience.

Daenerys made a point to look around at the crowd with a fierce glare. “Away with you! Find something better to do than gawking your eyes out!”

The gathered students slowly cleared away; some with indignant glares while some were only glad to depart the crowded corridor. Daenerys was soon left with Jon, Joffrey and Arya who stood a little ways down the corridor.

“Hah! That’s what you Starks deserve! They shouldn’t have allowed any of you peasant Northerners into Hogwarts if you ask me!” Joffrey spat with a wide grin. Daenerys glared at him and saw Jon take another threatening step forward, which she blocked by standing in between the two boys.

“Keep your filth to yourself, Baratheon, and don’t forget I’ll be writing your Head of House about this incident. I can’t take any points from Slytherin since you were only defending yourself, but trust me, I won’t forget this,” Daenerys said coldly.

Joffrey was younger than she was, but he was on his way to becoming quite a tall, lanky man. When he took a step closer to Daenerys, she was displeased to have to look up to him. “Is that a threat? You can’t prove anything,” Joffrey hissed and Daenerys summoned the best smirk she could while standing her ground.

“Oh, it’s not a threat at all,” she said sweetly, but her tone immediately darkened as she continued. “It’s a promise. If I so much as find a shred of evidence that you’re in possession of banned items, I’ll make sure you’re not allowed out of the castle for weeks to come. Now return to your dungeon before I sign you up for detention for the rest of the year.”

Joffrey was quick to clear off, throwing glares over his shoulder as he disappeared towards the dungeons. Daenerys sighed and released the tension from her posture, dared a glance at Jon and Arya who stood rather perplexed a little ways away before turning around herself and heading towards the Grand Hall. She tightened her fists when she heard hasty steps follow her.

_Of course he won’t just let this go… I should have known,_ Daenerys thought as she whirled around with a frown.

“How could you not subtract points from that weaselly slime ball? He went after a first-year!” Jon growled.

“You know I can’t take points away just because you said it happened! And don’t act like he got away scratch free; I very well plan on letting Professor Littlefinger know what that little worm is up to.” Daenerys crossed her arms and met Jon’s angry eyes.

“And _you_ know that he’ll just let the little bastard walk without punishment because Littlefinger is such good mates with the Lannisters!” Jon spat back.

“He might walk free for now, but it will put him on the radar for every other prefect and teacher in the school so he won’t be able to pull any other stunts,” Daenerys retorted, her own anger spiking to match Jon’s. “I’m just trying to follow the rules, Snow.”

Jon took a challenging step closer and it took every fibre of her being for Dany not to flinch back. He lowered his tone and Daenerys could feel his breath upon her cheeks. “Well, you’re not very good at following rules, curfew specifically,” he said gruffly.  

Daenerys froze for a long second before smirking widely. “You’re bluffing.”

“Really? So you weren’t out of the castle in the middle of the night? I could have sworn it was you,” Jon said sarcastically.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daenerys said calmly, but her voice was a lot softer than she had intended.

“Maybe you should read the rules again before you go get your midnight mail,” Jon growled and turned, stalking towards Arya and herding her away towards Gryffindor Tower. Daenerys was left behind, perplexed and flabbergasted, feeling somewhere between embarrassed and ready to kill.

Rage bubbled up from her stomach like a virus and Daenerys stampeded after the two Gryffindors. She caught up with them just before the Grand Staircase and Daenerys forced Jon to turn around by pulling at his shoulder. He still had a frown on his face and he didn’t seem all that surprised to see her, least of all intimidated like Daenerys had hoped.

“You know what? I am so sick and tired of all the animosity between us always ruining perfectly acceptable interactions. If it had been Robb who docked points from Gryffindor because of you, you’d be nodding in agreement!” Daenerys scolded.

“And I am sick and tired of trying to make nice with you when you clearly have no intention of ever backing down, because god forbid that you’d be vulnerable for once!” Jon growled back. He gave Arya a firm push towards the Grand Staircase and nodded for her to go ahead.

“I have no trouble being vulnerable with those I know and trust,” Daenerys hissed back.

“That’s odd. I thought you trusted me at the beginning of last year, yet I don’t remember you came to me after you eavesdropped on me and Ygritte!” Jon retorted.

“Obviously, no one I truly knew and trusted would say that I’d have nothing in my future but madness!” Daenerys spewed, putting as much venom in her voice as she could muster.

“Maybe you should have given me the chance to explain! We were friends, Daenerys!” There was an intense edge of regret in Jon’s voice and Daenerys had to steel herself to keep her anger in place.

“I thought so too, but clearly I was mistaken!” she growled. She crossed her arms stubbornly and glared at Jon, who mirrored her gaze with a glare of his own.

They stood in tense silence for a few moments, before Jon released a deep sigh. “We can’t continue fighting. I don’t think either of us would survive it.”

“Then lets settle this,” Daenerys said decisively, an idea growing in her mind. She snatched Jon’s arm, locking her fingers around his wrist and dragging him along before she changed her mind. Jon came along without a struggle, though perhaps he was too perplexed to really resist. Daenerys didn’t dare to look back at him until they had reached the corridor on the sixth floor.

Jon scoffed somewhere behind her and she quickly released his wrist. “You’re taking me to the Duelling Club?” he asked, disbelief in his voice. “Only moments after you busted me for duelling in the first place?”

“You were duelling in the corridor without the supervision of a prefect or faculty member,” Daenerys said through clenched teeth. “We will duel in the designated area and under my supervision, so technically it’s not against the rules.” She stalked into the classroom the Duelling Club used, lighting the wall sconces along the wall with a flick of her wand. There was a large cleared area in the classroom with benches along the walls and ominous looking armours standing in the corners. Daenerys took her position at the end of the room, whirled around and saw Jon approach rather reluctantly, like he couldn’t quite believe where they were.

Jon halted just short of the marked duelling area, glancing at Daenerys with raised eyebrows.

“Take your place,” Dany said curtly. Jon slowly took his place opposite of her and Daenerys readied her wand.

“Are you sure this is the best way –“

“We’ve both tried every other way, Jon,” Daenerys said with a dry, mirthless laugh. “We’ve fought each other, ignored each other and tried to play nice. All we need is one more confrontation, one more fight to end this and finally move on!”

“And how do you suppose we do that, eh? Loser forfeits the right to talk back?” Jon slowly pulled his wand from his sleeve.

“No, loser AND winner agree to start off with a clean slate, no past grievances, no grudges, nothing. We’ll be classmates, housemates, I don’t care! As long as we can pass each other in the hallway without trying to burn the other to a crisp!” Daenerys exploded. After she finished, she quickly composed herself, cursing herself for her outburst.

Jon reluctantly took his position. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

“I don’t care. Right now I just want to kick your ass,” Daenerys growled. “No illegal spells. No irreversible jinxes. No physical contact. Do you agree?”

“I agree,” Jon said simply.

Daenerys bowed stiffly and she was vaguely aware of Jon doing the same. She straightened and aimed her wand and Jon did the same. He looked tense, but ready. A nervous jitter settled in her stomach.

_What am I doing?! This is exactly what he’s good at! I can’t beat him!_ Daenerys thought desperately, but she steeled herself. She was just as capable as him and what she lacked in reflexes, she could make up with fierce determination.

“ _Stupefy_!” she yelled and watched the red tinted charm erupt from her wand and rush at Jon.


	7. Jon IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Daenerys fight it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the lovely feedback and kudos on last chapter! It keeps these millenial joints fresh to keep typing out word after word, silly sentence after silly sentence.   
> Shout out to my friend CliffyQueen and b3_An_Exceptional_Nobody for exceptionally wonderful, long comments that really float my boat, ruffle my truffle and bake my cake!  
> Please enjoy!

“ _Stupefy_!” Daenerys yelled and Jon watched the red tinted charm erupt from her wand. With a quick flick of his wand, Jon absorbed the charm with a shield spell, the air in front of him shimmering as the red sparks from her stunning spell were blocked.

“ _Cantis! Confundo!”_ Daenerys cast both hexes in quick succession, stepping to the left as she tried to get an angle on him that he couldn’t easily defend. He followed every one of her steps, except in the other direction. Another wave of his wand had Daenerys’ singing hex absorbed by another shield charm, and a quick sidestep saw her Confundus charm hit the stone wall behind him. The walls shook slightly when the charm bounced, echoing slightly and a fine veil of dust settled over the room.

Jon couldn’t quite hide his amusement as Daenerys huffed in exasperation and he felt the corner of his mouth curling up.  “Are you trying to get me confused or singing?” Jon said, slightly mocking, before shooting his first offensive spell at her; a quick Tickling Spell. Daenerys quickly summoned a shield charm of her own, but Jon saw with satisfaction that it had been rather close. His grasp on non-verbal spells seriously put her at a disadvantage and Jon wondered how she was going to compensate.

“I wouldn’t want to hear your singing voice in a million years,” Daenerys retorted. She frowned with concentration as she fired a series of icy blue spells at him and Jon shielded himself successfully, but he noticed he was pushed back a good couple inches by the sheer force of her spells. What she lacked in experience, she made up with sheer power and determination and Jon reminded himself not to underestimate her.

“So you do know nonverbal spells,” Jon muttered with slight admiration. Daenerys didn’t reply and instead aimed her wand at one of the chairs and murmured something Jon didn’t quite catch. The chair, however, seemed to understand quite well and morphed into a decent sized wildcat. The striped animal hissed, its fur and tail fluffing up as it beheld Jon.

Jon glanced back and forth between the feline and Daenerys, but kept his wand aimed at Daenerys as he thought she might prove a more dangerous adversary. The wolf within him slowly stalked the edge of his awareness when the wildcat appeared, seeing a chance for a meal and an opportunity to show off.

 _Hold yourself still, beast_ , Jon though wryly while keeping a sharp eye on Daenerys and the summoned cat. _Hold yourself still or we will not run with the next moon._ The wolf stayed in the hazy mental shadows, reluctantly, but obeying for now.

“ _Oppugno_ ,” Daenerys said in a tight voice and with a hiss, the cat ran rushed forward. At the same time, Daenerys raised her wand and shot another Stunning spell at him. Jon ducked out of the Stunning spell’s way and shot an Impediment curse at the wildcat, forcing it to a standstill mid-run. It remained suspended in mid-air, it’s limbs frozen but its eyes gazing about frantically.

“Good thinking on your feet, but you’re going to have to do better if –“ Jon’s words were cut off as a sudden jet of water hit him square in the face. He sputtered for a moment and tried to shield his face with his hands, but the water already abated. He was left soaked and gazed at Daenerys with a frown, his hair sticking wetly to his forehead.

“You talk too much for an experienced duellist,” Daenerys said, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

The wolf in his mind radiated uncertainty. _Shift_ , said his canine instinct. _Shift_ and fetch the pack.

 _This is a duel and it has to be fought one on one,_ Jon reminded the wolf sternly.

But she is a _dragon_ and a lone wolf cannot fight a _dragon_ , the instinct told him.

 _We can and we will._ Jon struggled to find the right image so the wolf would understand. _She challenged me and we cannot forego the challenge. We have to earn her respect._

Then show her you are the _alpha_ , but know that we cannot trust a _dragon_ , the wolf told him, and retreated once more into the haziness of Jon’s mind.

Jon faintly shook his head to clear it, gritted his teeth and summoned a fire storm, letting it grow into a wall of flames before directing it at Daenerys. She parted the wall of flames with a flick of her wand, whirled and guided the flames around her and shot them back at him with extra force, her silver hair shimmering in the light of the flames. Jon had to erect a shield with a quick whip of his wand and the flames roared past him, but he could still feel the intense heat blasting by.

The flames dissolved but the heat stayed and Jon realized the hem of his robe was smouldering. He doused it with a curse and looked up to find Daenerys smirking widely. Summoning his focus again, Jon aimed his wand at the frozen wildcat and transfigured the feline into a cauldron, sending it flying at Daenerys.

“ _Reducto_!” she yelled just in time and the cauldron broke apart into pieces before it could reach her. One of the shards struck her on the arm and cut through her robe, slashing her skin underneath. Jon felt a pang of guilt when he heard Daenerys whimper slightly, but she immediately faced him with determination and cast three stunning spells at him in quick succession.

Jon silently erected another shield charm, absorbing two of hexes, but the third soared past him and hit the stone wall behind him. The spell chipped a piece off the wall, pulverizing it and sending a fine dust cloud to expand in the classroom. Before he knew it, Jon was surrounded by the smoke-like cloud and Daenerys was obscured from his view.

In a sudden fit of inspiration, Jon recalled a day from years ago, one where he and Ghost had spent hours out in the snow, alone and completely free. He recalled the intense feeling of wonder and simple happiness that day had brought. He basked for one second in that memory, then swirled his wand and silently cast the Patronus charm. An enormous silver dire wolf sprouted from the tip of his wand and with a silent command, he sent the apparition through the dust cloud at Daenerys.

One second later he heard a high shriek and a soft thud and Jon quickly rushed through the dust, wand ready and raised. When he reached Daenerys he saw she was sitting on the ground as if something had knocked her over. She aimed her wand at him, but a quick disarming spell send it flying to the side. Daenerys watched with wide eyes as her wand bounced against the wall and rolled to a halt, then gazed up at Jon with disappointment clear on her face.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Jon realized that his chest was heaving and he crouched to the ground to catch his breath. Sudden fatigue made him sit down with a huff and when he pulled a hand through his hair he still found it dripping with water.

“Good fight…” Daenerys said reluctantly and Jon saw her slowly inspect the gash on her arm.

 _Maybe I should offer to heal –_ but Jon stopped the thought as he realized it would only wound Daenerys’ pride.

“Right back at you,” Jon said stiffly.

Daenerys rose with a grunt and went to fetch her wand. Jon watched her point her wand at her arm from the corner of his eyes and she muttered a healing charm that knit her skin back together flawlessly. Jon couldn’t help but be impressed, since healing spells were exceptionally difficult, and would sometimes still scar if the wizard or witch wasn’t capable enough. Daenerys then returned to the middle of the room and sat herself down in front of Jon.

“Per our agreement, we should start with a clean slate. I suppose I should begin,” she said tensely, rolling her wand in between her fingers.

“Daenerys, you don’t have to –“ Jon tried to interject.

“No, I do have something to say, Jon, and I’d appreciate it if you just let me.”

There was a long silence only broken by Daenerys’ soft fidgeting with her wand. Jon observed Daenerys’ face more closely. To his surprise, her lip was quivering with pent up emotion.

“Daenerys –“ he tried.

“No! I won’t let you ruin the one opportunity to tell you how I feel,” Daenerys hissed at him, her eyes watery with either fury or frustration or maybe both, Jon couldn’t tell. “I need to say this, so we can stop arguing over every little thing that we don’t like about each other. We did it last year, and I won’t do it this year! I refuse to do it!”

Daenerys tightened her fingers around her wand and for a second Jon feared she might snap it by accident.

“When I transferred here I was determined to find an ally. Someone who I could trust and who wouldn’t judge me for my ancestors’ past. I thought I had found that in _you_!” Daenerys said angrily. “Imagine my surprise when I overhear you spewing to your girlfriend how I was destined to end up just as mad as them! I thought we were friends!”

“We were friends…” Jon muttered.

Daenerys ignored him. “Now I get that we’d only been friends for a couple of weeks, but I thought that you of all people would see that I _fled_ Durmstrang and the reputation my family has there,” Daenerys spat. “I thought you would see that I was trying my best to be more than just the Mad Targaryen’s daughter. I thought I had found a companion in you that would _understand_ what it’s like to fight the name that’s given to you.”

“I understand –“

“I doubt you do,” Daenerys said sharply.

“I _do_ understand,” Jon interjected. “That’s just it, Daenerys. I understand completely.” Jon looked to the side as he couldn’t stand to look into those violet eyes for too long at a time. He grasped his hands together and tightened them, hoping that it would alleviate the guilt gnawing in his chest. He took a deep breath, knowing that only honesty could truly bring the animosity between him and Daenerys to an end. “I know it’s long overdue and probably too late, but I want you to know that I am sorry for what I said.”

Daenerys stared at him and somehow the violet of her eyes didn’t seem as sharp as before. She looked at her hands grasping her wand and gave a miniscule nod. “Did you mean what you said?” she added softly.

Jon gulped. “At the time, I did.”

Daenerys nodded stiffly. “I see.”

“Let me explain where I was coming from,” Jon said quickly. “You obviously know of my family situation. I’ve been with them almost as long as I can remember and Mrs. Stark has always made sure that I don’t get too comfortable.” Jon barked a dry laugh. “To her, I am a living reminder of her husband’s infidelity and she made sure that I knew I was different. I learned that I will always be associated with the Starks and yet never truly be a part of them. I learned that I will always be my father’s mistake, at least to Mrs. Stark.”

Jon saw that Daenerys was about to protest, but he quickly held up his hand to keep her from interrupting. “It’s the mindset with which I was raised, despite my father’s efforts to make me part of the family. It’s always been in the back of my mind and in the back of the minds of everyone that meets me. I know it’s silly to think, but I’ve always thought that I’ll never be quite… _enough._ ”

“That is indeed very silly to think,” Daenerys said with slight exasperation.

“Honestly, who would pick me when they can have Robb?”

“I would have. I did.” Daenerys said it so softly that Jon almost missed it. He looked at her for a long moment, trying to see her eyes, but she kept her head so low her silver hair obscured her face.

Jon sighed. “I’ve always kept myself on the background because I thought I’d never outrun my name. I think, when you overheard me and Ygritte, I was really talking about myself, rather than you. I know it’s a poor excuse and I’m not trying to talk my way out of this, but… It’s the way I viewed myself and, for a time, the way I viewed you. Unable to outrun the legacies already laid out for us.”

“Since you’re speaking in past tense, I’m assuming this is no longer your point of view?” Daenerys asked.

Jon nodded and chuckled awkwardly. “For some reason, Ygritte got me to see my own worth. She always said I didn’t know a lot of things, until I realised that wasn’t quite true. There was no time or room for any pretence with her and she always saw right through my own doubts and fears. It made me realise that I can be more than just an intruder in the Stark household. Unfortunately, you overheard us before I had that particular revelation.”

“And by that time we had already fought so often it had already become a habit,” Daenerys said softly. Jon nodded grimly.

“I suppose I owe you an apology too,” Daenerys began and Jon wondered if that edge to her voice was guilt. “I should have come to you, before calling you a backstabbing Northerner and fighting with you for the rest of the year.” After a long moment of silence, she added: “I’m sorry about that.”

Jon nodded and scratched his head, feeling that his hair was still damp. “I’ve heard people call you all kinds of nasty things, Daenerys. I know that my words must have hurt you, but I don’t see you fighting with anyone else with the intensity as we’ve fought.”

“I guess it really hurt when someone I considered a friend said that I had no way of avoiding that fate of madness,” Daenerys admitted. She looked down at her wand, rolling it in between her fingers once more. “I keep telling myself that it won’t happen as long as I keep my head about me, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder if - if it’s already started. I really don’t want to follow my father and brother down that path,” she said quietly, and Jon found her violet eyes matching the softness of her voice. “It scares the hell out of me.”

Jon fidgeted with his hands, wanting to comfort her, but not wanting to upset the delicate peace they seemed to have settled on. “Are you exhibiting any of the symptoms that come with it?”

Daenerys gave a dry chuckle. “No new ones, anyway. Impulsiveness is one of them, but I’ve always had that. Extreme mood swings is another and you said it yourself, I only have two settings; frigidly cold and furiously angry,” she said wryly.

“I said that when I was angry,” Jon muttered.

“I’m sure we both said things we didn’t quite mean to say in our many fights,” Daenerys replied. “I know I did.” Daenerys rose, dusted off her robes and put away her wand. Jon also got to his feet and surveyed the damage to his robe. When he looked up, he found Daenerys eyeing the door to the corridor.

“Are we – ? Are we good, Daenerys? This all feels a little… unfamiliar,” he mused awkwardly.

“I mean – I think it will take some time before we – before we can stomach each other, but I think we made the first step,” Daenerys replied, her voice clearly showing that she was just as uncertain as Jon felt.

“Maybe we’ve fought too long and we cannot be redeemed…” Jon said with a wry chuckle. Daenerys grimaced and Jon saw that his attempt at a joke had the complete opposite effect.

“Maybe so, but at least we can say we tried,” Daenerys said stiffly.

“I didn’t quite mean it that way,” Jon said quickly.

Daenerys looked at him, confused, then realised his poor attempt at a jest. “ _Oh._ Well…”

They stood together in the duelling room for an awkward length, not meeting each other’s eyes.

“I have a potions essay to – “

“I should see if – “ They both spoke at the same time and fell silent at the same time. Daenerys quickly scurried out the door of the duelling room, leaving Jon behind. Jon glanced around and saw the ruined walls, the dusty floor and the blackened benches. With a sigh, he lifted up his wand to repair and clean the room up, feeling the guilt in his chest somewhat alleviated and replaced by uncertain relief.

\---

When he got to the portrait of the Fat Lady later that evening, she eyed him up and down with a certain appreciation, before composing her face behind a large fan.

“Well if it isn’t Jon Snow,” she said coyly.

“Pepperpuffs,” Jon growled, not in the mood for any verbal puzzles, but the Fat Lady kept her painting closed.

“I hear from Ser John the Oak that you and Miss Targaryen had quite the clash this afternoon in the Duelling room. Ser John tells me he feared for the health of his portrait the way you two were exchanging hexes.”

“Tell Ser John to stick to his own portrait,” Jon replied. “Pepperpuffs.”

The Fat Lady scowled indignantly. “Now mind your tone young –“

“Pepperpuffs!” Jon said, louder this time, and portrait finally swung open. Jon did a quick survey of the Common Room, and saw no sign of silver hair, both to his relief and, strangely, disappointment. A quick shadow, however, launched itself at Jon and he caught Arya with a wide grin. When he put her down again, she seemed to give him an observing look up and down, and her gaze was caught by his singed robe.

“Looks like you and Daenerys fought it out rather literally,” Arya said with a wide smirk.

“Aye…” Jon said simply and pulled a hand through his hair.

“So who won?”

“I did,” Jon said softly. “But I sort of tricked her, so I’m not sure it counts.”

“As if Daenerys Targaryen would accept defeat if she thought she’d been tricked,” Arya scoffed with a grin. “So you conquered the dragon, in a manner of speaking,” Arya mused. “Did you two make up, then?”

“I think – I think we both reluctantly signed a ceasefire,” Jon said a little awkwardly.

“I suppose that will do for now. As long as she doesn’t kill you in your sleep,” Arya mused with a smirk.

“Please. Daenerys would – “ Jon let the rest of his sentence fall short when he heard the portrait hole shut and someone with silver hair came stalking towards the main Common Room. Daenerys slowed her steps down when her eyes fell on Jon and Arya and eventually came to a halt in front of them. She looked from Arya to Jon, and back again.

“Arya…” she said in acknowledgement, brought her gaze back to Jon and hesitated. “Jon…” she said with the faintest of nods. Immediately after, she marched off towards the girl dormitories.

A moment after she disappeared up the spiral stairs, Arya begun to laugh quite heartily and Jon managed a faint smile of his own.

“She’s still quite cross with me, I think,” he said.

“Cross with you? Jon, that was the first time she acknowledged you without even a grimace. Not sure what you did to her, but I’d almost say you charmed her pants right off!” Arya said, her eyes twinkling with clear amusement.

“Arya! Language,” Jon said indignantly.

“What? It was just a figure of speech.” Arya flunked herself down on an empty armchair with a sigh. “Well, if you two ever get together, at least it will be more peaceful here in the Common Room.”

“That’s not what – Why would you – “ Jon fought to find the right words as he felt his cheeks heat up. “Daenerys and I were practically mortal enemies hours ago. Let’s not jump ahead.”

“Oh, I wasn’t, brother, but it certainly was worth the look on your face,” Arya guffawed.

“I bet,” Jon murmured under his breath. He slowly sat down on a nearby footstool and gazed about the Common Room.

“Did you hear that Sansa got a 112% on her History of Magic essay? How is that even possible? And how exactly does Professor Malleon even check homework? Surely he can’t pick up the parchments, they’d just pass through his ghostly hands,” Arya contemplated.

“I hear he uses his ghostly powers to blow every page over with a howling gust of wind,” Jon said as seriously as he could. Arya looked at him doubtfully for a moment, then scoffed in disbelief.

“You lie about as well as you sing, brother.”

“I’m an excellent –“ Jon cut off his own sentence when a shriek came from the girl dormitories, and it wasn’t until then that Jon noticed the faint smell of smoke. He and Arya jumped up, as did other students, and ran towards the spiral staircase that led to the girl dormitories. Jon didn’t hesitate to race up the stairs, but was quick to come down when the steps below him gave way to a slippery slide. He scrambled up to his feet, ready to try again, but Arya pulled him roughly back by his arm.

“It won’t admit you, you oaf! Let me!” she said sharply and rushed up the slide-staircase, the steps reappearing beneath her feet as she ran up, leaving Jon behind as a small crowd of concerned Gryffindors gathered to see what was going on.


End file.
